IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.6 


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7 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions 


Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


1980 


Technical  Notes  /  Notes  techniques 


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n 


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Coloured  maps/ 

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de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int^rieure) 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
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d6fauts  susceptibles  de  nuire  d  la  quality  de  la 
reproduction  sont  notds  ci-dessous. 


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Show  through/ 
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Th< 

PO! 

of  1 
filn 


Tht 
cor 
on 
apf 

Th< 
filn 
ins 


Ma 
in  « 
upi 
bol 
foil 


n 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires 


Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  bibliographiques 


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n 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 


Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


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D 
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Pagination  incorrect/ 
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Des  pages  manquent 


Maps  missing/ 

Des  cartes  g^ographiques  manquent 


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de  la  nettet6  de  I'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche  shall 
contain  the  symbol  —»>  (meaning  CONTINUED"), 
or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"),  whichever 
applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la  der- 
nidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le  cas: 
le  symbole  — *-  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le  symbole 
V  signifie  "FIN". 


The  original  copy  was  borrowed  from,  and 
filmed  with,  the  kind  consent  of  the  following 
institution: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  it  la 
gdndrositd  de  I'dtablissement  prdteur 
suivant  : 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


Maps  or  plates  too  large  to  be  entirely  included 
in  one  exposure  are  filmed  beginning  in  the 
upper  Inft  hand  corner,  left  to  right  and  top  to 
bottom,  as  many  frames  as  required.  The 
following  diagrams  illustrate  the  method: 


Les  cartes  ou  les  planches  trop  grandes  pour  §tre 
reproduites  en  un  seul  clichd  sont  filmdes  d 
partir  de  Tangle  supdrieure  gauche,  de  gauche  d 
droite  et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Le  diagramme  suivant 
illustre  la  mdthode  : 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

In  th< 


Midst  of  Alarms 


By  ROBERT   BARR 


FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


«^«)«-Mb  •* 


?-Z3 

\€94- 


149266 


1^(^R.R  .-R 


Copyright,  1894,  by 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY. 


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IN  THE  MIDST  OF  ALARMS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


In  the  marble-floored  vestibule  of  the  Metro- 
politan Grand  Hotel  in  Buffalo,  Professor  Still- 
son  Renmark  stood  and  looked  about  him  with 
the  anxious  manner  of  a  person  unused  to  the 
gaudy  splendor  of  the  modern  American  house 
of  entertainment.  The  professor  had  paused 
halfway  between  the  door  and  the  marble 
counter,  because  he  began  to  fear  that  he  had 
arrived  at  an  inopportune  time,  that  something 
unusual  was  going  on.  The  hurry  and  bustle 
bewildered  him. 

An  omnibus,  partly  filled  with  passengers, 
was  standing  at  the  door,  its  steps  backed  over 
the  curbstone,  and  beside  it  was  a  broad,  flat 
van,  on  which  stalwart  porters  were  heaving 
great  square,  iron-bound  trunks  belonging  to 
commercial  travelers,  and  the  more  fragile,  but 
not  less  bulky,  Saratogas,  doubtless  the  property 
of  the  ladies  who  sat  patiently  in  the  omnibus. 
Another  vehicle  which  had  just  arrived  was 
backing  up  to  the  curb,  and  the  irate  driver  used 
language  suitable  to  the  occasion ;  for  the  two 
restive  horses  were  not  behaving  exactly  in  the 
way  he  liked. 

A  man  with  a  stentorian,  but  monotonous 
and  mournful,  voice  was  filling  the  air  with  the 
information  that  a  train  was  abo      to  depart 


•ffn  tbe  flb(&0t  of  Blarm0. 


for  Albany,  Saratoga,  Troy,  Boston,  New  York, 
and  the  East.  When  he  came  to  the  words 
"  the  East,"  his  voice  dropped  to  a  sad  minor 
key,  as  if  the  man  despaired  of  the  fate  of  tliose 
who  took  their  departure  in  that  direction. 
Every  now  and  then  a  brazen  gong  sounded 
sharply ;  and  one  of  the  negroes  who  sat  in  a 
row  on  a  bench  along  the  marble-paneled  wall 
sprang  forward  to  the  counter,  took  somebody's 
handbag,  and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of 
the  elevator  with  the  newly  arrived  guest  fol- 
lowing him.  Groups  of  men  stood  here  and 
there  conversing,  heedless  of  the  rush  of  arrival 
and  departure  around  them. 

Before  the  broad  and  lofty  plate-glass  win- 
dows sat  a  row  of  men,  some  talking,  some 
reading,  and  some  gazing  outside,  but  all  with 
their  feet  on  the  brass  rail  which  had  been 
apparently  put  there  for  that  purpose.  Nearly 
everybody  was  smoking  a  cigar.  A  lady  of 
dignified  mien  came  down  the  hall  to  the  front 
of  the  counter,  and  spoke  quietly  to  the  clerk, 
who  bent  his  well-groomed  head  deferentially 
on  one  side  as  he  listened  to  what  she  had  to 
say.  The  men  instantly  made  way  for  her. 
She  passed  along  among  them  as  composedly 
as  if  she  were  in  her  own  drawing  room,  inclin- 
ing her  head  slightly  to  one  or  other  of  her 
acquaintances,  which  salutation  was  gravely 
acknowledged  by  the  raising  of  the  hat  and  the 
temporary  removal  of  the  cigar  from  the  lips. 

All  this  was  very  strange  to  the  professor, 
and  he  felt  himself  in  a  new  world,  with  whose 
customs  he  was  not  familiar.  Nobody  paid  the 
slightest  attention  to  him  as  he  stood  there 
among  it  all  with  his  satchel  in  his  hand.  As 
he  timidly  edged  up  to  the  counter,  and  tried 
to  accumulate  courage  enough  to  address  the 
clerk,  a  young  man  came  forward,  flung  his 
handbag  on  the  polished  top  of  the  counter. 


•ffn  tbe  IS^i^et  of  Blarms. 


metaphorically  brushed  the  p»"ofessor  aside, 
pulled  the  bulky  register  toward  him,  and  in- 
scribed his  name  on  the  page  with  a  rapidity 
equaled  only  by  the  illegibility  of  the  result. 

"  Hello,  Sam  !  "  he  said  to  the  clerk.  "  How's 
things  ?     Get  my  telegram  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  the  clerk;  "but  I  can't 
give  you  27.  It's  been  taken  for  a  week.  I 
reserved  85  for  you,  and  had  to  hold  on  with 
my  teeth  to  do  that." 

The  reply  of  the  young  man  was  merely  a 
brief  mention  of  the  place  of  torment. 

"  It  zs  hot,"  said  the  clerk  blandly.  "  In 
from  Cleveland  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Any  letters  for  me  ?  " 

"  Couple  of  telegrams.  You'll  find  them  up 
in  85." 

"  Oh,  you  were  cocksure  I'd  take  that  room  ?  " 

"  I  was  cocksure  you'd  have  to.  It  is  either 
that  or  the  fifth  floor.  We're  full.  Couldn't 
give  a  better  room  to  the  President  if  he  came." 

"  Oh,  well,  what's  good  enough  for  the  Presi- 
dent I  can  put  up  with   for  a  couple  of  days." 

The  hand  of  the  clerk  descended  on  the  bell. 
The  negro  sprang  forward  and  took  the  "  grip." 

"  Eighty-five,"  said  the  clerk  ;  and  the  drum- 
mer and  the  negro  disappeared. 

"  Is  there  any  place  where  I  could  leave  my 
bag  for  a  while  ?  "  the  professor  at  last  said 
timidly  to  the  clerk. 

"Your  bag?" 

The  professor  held  it  up  in  view. 

"  Oh,  your  grip.  Certainly.  Have  a  room, 
sir?"  And  the  clerk's  hand  hovered  over  the 
bell. 

"  No.  At  least,  not  just  yet.  You  see, 
I'm " 

"  All  right.  The  baggage  man  there  to  the 
left  will  check  it  for  you." 

"  Any  letters  for  Bond  ?  "  said  a  man,  push- 


8 


tin  tbe  /IbiDdt  ot  Blarmd. 


ing  himself  in  front  of  the  professor.  The 
clerk  pulled  out  a  fat  bunch  of  letters  f?  oin  the 
compartment  marked  "  B,"  and  handed  the 
whole  lot  to  the  inquirer,  wlio  went  rapidly  over 
them,  selected  two  that  appeared  to  be  addressed 
to  him,  and  gave  the  letters  a  push  toward  the 
clerk,  who  placed  them  where  they  were  before. 

The  professor  paused  a  moment,  then,  realiz- 
ing that  the  clerk  had  forgotten  him,  sought 
the  baggage  man,  whom  he  found  in  a  room 
filled  with  trunks  and  valises.  The  room  com- 
municated with  the  gt  It  hall  by  means  of  a 
square  opening  whose  )wer  ledge  was  breast 
high.  The  professor  stood  before  it,  and 
handed  the  valise  to  the  man  behind  this  open- 
ing, who  rapidly  attached  one  brass  check  to 
the  handle  with  a  leather  thong,  and  flung  the 
other  piece  of  brass  to  the  professor.  The 
latter  was  not  sure  but  there  was  something  to 
pay,  still  he  quite  correctly  assumed  that  if 
there  had  been  the  somewhat  brusque  man 
would  have  had  no  hesitation  in  mentioning  the 
fact ;  in  which  surmise  his  natural  common 
sense  proved  a  sure  guide  among  strange  sur- 
roundings. There  was  no  false  delicacy  about 
the  baggage  man. 

Although  the  professor  was  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent bewildered  by  the  condition  of  things,  there 
was  still  in  his  nature  a  certained  dogged  per- 
sistence that  had  before  now  stood  him  in  good 
stead,  and  which  had  enabled  him  to  distance, 
in  the  long  run,  much  more  brilliant  men.  He 
was  not  at  all  satisfied  with  his  brief  interview 
with  the  clerk.  He  resolved  to  approach  that 
busy  individual  again,  if  he  could  arrest  his 
attention.  It  was  some  time  before  he  caught 
the  speaker's  eye,  as  it  were,  but  when  he  did 
so,  he  said : 

"  I  was  about  to  say  to  you  that  I  am  wait- 
ing for  a  friend  from  New  York  who  may  not 


Hn  tbc  /Ri&0t  of  Blarm0. 


yet  have  arrived.  His  name  is  Mr.  Richard 
Yates  of  the " 

"  Oh,  Dick  Yates !  Certainly.  He's  here." 
Turning  to  the  negro,  he  said  :  "  Go  down  to 
the  bilHard  room  and  see  if  Mr.  Yates  is  there. 
If  he  is  not,  look  for  him  at  the  bar." 

The  clerk  evidently  knew  Mr.  Dick  Yates. 
Apparently  not  noticing  the  look  of  amaze- 
ment that  had  stolen  over  the  professor's  face, 
the  clerk  said: 

"  If  you  wait  in  the  reading  room,  I'll  send 
Yates  to  you  when  he  comes.  The  boy  will  find 
him  if  he's  in  the  house ;  but  he  may  be  uptown." 

The  professor,  disliking  to  trouble  the  oblig- 
ing clerk  further,  did  not  ask  him  where  the 
reading  room  was.  He  inquired,  instead,  of  a 
hurrying  porter,  and  received  the  curt  but  com- 
prehensive answer : 

"  Dining  room  next  floor.  Reading,  smok- 
ing, and  writing  rooms  up  the  hall.  Billiard 
room,  bar,  and  lavatory  downstairs." 

The  professor,  after  getting  into  the  barber 
shop  and  the  cigar  store,  finally  found  his  way 
into  the  reading  room.  Numerous  daily  papers 
were  scattered  around  on  the  table,  each 
attached  to  a  long,  clumsy  cleft  holder  made  of 
wood ;  while  other  journals,  similarly  encum- 
bered, hung  from  racks  against  the  wall.  The 
professor  sat  down  in  one  of  the  easy  leather- 
covered  chairs,  but,  instead  ol  taking  up  a 
paper,  drew  a  thin  book  from  his  pocket,  in 
which  he  was  soon  so  absorbed  that  he  became 
entirely  unconscious  of  his  strange  surround- 
ings. A  light  touch  on  the  shoulder  brought 
him  up  from  his  book  into  the  world  again,  and 
he  saw,  looking  down  on  him,  the  stern  face  of 
a  heavily  mustached  stranger. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  may  I  ask  if  you 
are  a  guest  of  this  house  ?  " 

A  shade  of  apprehension  crossed  the  pro- 


10 


f  n  tbe  /lRit)0t  of  Blarma. 


fessor's  face  as  he  slipped  the  book  into  his 
pocket.  He  had  vaguely  felt  that  he  was  tres- 
passing when  he  first  entered  the  hotel,  and 
now  his  doubts  were  confirmed. 

"  I — I  am  not  exactly  a  guest,"  he  stammered. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  not  exactly  a  guest  ?  " 
continued  the  other,  regarding  the  professor 
with  a  cold  and  scrutinizing  gaze.  "  A  man  is 
either  a  guest  or  he  is  not,  I  take  it.  Which  is 
it  in  your  case  ?  " 

"  I  prestime,  technically  speaking,  I  am  not." 

'•  Technically  speaking !  More  evasions.  Let 
me  ask  you,  sir,  as  an  ostensibly  honest  man,  if 
you  imagine  that  all  this  luxury — this — this 
elegance — is  maintained  for  nothing?  Do  you 
think,  sir,  that  it  is  provided  for  any  man  who 
has  cheek  enough  to  step  out  of  the  street  and 
enjoy  it  ?  Is  it  kept  up,  I  ask,  for  people  who 
are,  technically  speaking,  not  guests  ?  " 

The  expression  of  conscious  guilt  deepened  on 
the  face  of  the  unfortunate  professor.  He  had 
nothing  to  say.  He  realized  that  his  conduct 
was  too  flagrant  to  admit  of  defense,  so  he 
attempted  none.  Suddenly  the  countenance  of 
his  questioner  lit  up  with  a  smile,  and  he  smote 
the  professor  on  the  shoulder. 

"Well,  old  stick-in-the-mud,  you  haven't 
changed  a  particle  in  fifteen  years  !  You  don't 
mean  to  pretend  you  don't  know  me  ?  " 

"You  can't — you  can't  be  Richard  Yates?  " 

"  I  not  only  can,  but  I  can't  be  anybody  else. 
I  know,  because  I  have  often  tried.  Well,  well, 
well,  well !  Stilly  we  used  to  call  you  ;  don't 
you  remember  ?  I'll  never  forget  that  time  we 
sang  '  Oft  in  the  stilly  night '  in  front  of  your 
window  when  you  were  studying  for  the  exams. 
Y  i^  always  'we7'e  a  quiet  fello\/.  Stilly.  I've 
been  waiting  for  you  nearly  a  whole  dr:y,  I  was 
up  just  now  with  a  party  of  friends  when  the 
boy  brought  me  your  card — a  little  philanthropic 


f  n  tbe  OsitfBt  ot  Blatma. 


II 


gathering — sort  of  mutual  benefit  arrangement, 
you  know :  each  of  us  contributed  what  we 
could  spare  to  a  general  fund,  which  was  given 
to  some  deserving  person  in  the  crowd." 

"Yes,"  said  the  professor  dryly.  "I  heard 
the  clerk  telling  the  boy  where  he  would  be 
most  likely  to  find  you." 

"  Oh,  you  did,  eh  ?  "  cried  Yates,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Yes,  Sam  generally  knows  where  to  send  for 
me  ;  but  he  needn't  have  been  so  darned  public 
about  it.  Being  a  newspaper  man,  I  know 
what  ought  to  go  in  print  and  what  should  have 
the  blue  pencil  run  through  it.  Sam  is  very  dis- 
creet, as  a  general  thing ;  but  then  he  knew,  of 
course,  the  moment  he  set  eyes  on  you,  that  you 
were  an  old  pal  of  mine." 

Again  Yates  laughed,  a  very  bright  and 
cheery  laugh  for  so  evidently  wicked  a  man. 

"  Come  along,"  he  said,  taking  the  professor 
by  the  arm.     "  We  must  get  you  located." 

They  passed  out  into  the  hall,  and  drew  up 
at  the  clerk's  counter. 

"  I  say,  Sam,"  cried  Yates,  "  can't  you  do 
something  better  for  us  than  the  fifth  floor  ?  I 
didn't  come  to  Buffalo  to  engage  in  ballooning. 
No  sky  parlors  for  me,  if  I  can  help  it." 

"I'm  sorry,  Dick,"  said  the  clerk ;  "but  I  ex- 
pect the  fifth  floor  will  be  gone  when  the 
Chicago  express  gets  in." 

"  Well,  what  can  you  do  for  us,  anyhow.^  " 

"  I  can  let  you  have  518.  That's  the  next 
room  to  yours.  Really,  they're  the  most  com- 
fortable rooms  in  the  house  this  weather.  Fine 
lookout  over  the  lake.  I  wouldn't  mind  having  a 
sight  of  the  lake  myself ,  if  I  could  leave  the  desk." 

"  All  right.  But  I  didn't  come  to  look  at  the 
lake,  nor  yet  at  the  railroad  tracks  this  side,  nor 
at  Buffalo  Creek  eitiier,  beautiful  and  romantic 
as  it  is,  nor  to  listen  to  the  clanging  of  the  ten 
thousand  locomotives  that  pass  within  hearing 


12 


•ffn  tbc  /HbiOet  of  Blarma. 


distance  for  the  delight  of  your  guests.  The 
fact  is  that,  always  excepting  Chicago,  Buffalo 
is  more  like — for  the  professor's  sake  I'll  say 
Hades,  than  any  other  place  in  America." 

"  Oh,  Buffalo's  all  right,"  said  the  clerk,  with 
that  feeling  of  local  loyalty  which  all  Americans 
possess.  "  Say,  are  you  here  on  this  Fenian 
snap  ?  " 

"  What  Fenian  snap  ?  "  asked  the  newspaper 
man. 

"  Oh !  don't  you  know  about  it  ?  I  thought, the 
moment  I  saw  you,  that  you  were  here  for  this 
affair.  Well,  don't  say  I  told  you,  but  I  can  put 
you  on  to  one  of  the  big  guns  if  you  want  the 
particulars.  They  say  they're  going  to  take 
Canada.  I  told  'em  that  I  wouldn't  take  Canada 
as  a  gift,  let  alone  fight  for  it.     I've  deen  there." 

Yates'  newspaper  instinct  thrilled  him  as  he 
thought  of  the  possible  sensation.  Then  the 
light  slowly  died  out  of  his  eyes  when  he  looked 
at  the  professor,  who  had  flushed  somewhat  and 
compressed  his  lips  as  he  listened  to  the  slight- 
ing remarks  on  his  country. 

"  Well,  Sam,"  said  the  newspaper  man  at 
last,  "  it  isn't  more  than  once  in  a  lifetime  that 
you'll  find  me  give  the  go-by  to  a  piece  of  news, 
but  the  fact  is  Fm  on  my  vacation  just  now. 
About  the  first  I've  hnl  for  fifteen  years;  so, 
you  see,  I  must  take  care  of  it.  No,  let  the 
Argtis  get  scooped,  if  it  wants  to.  They'll 
value  my  services  all  the  more  when  I  get  back. 
No.  518,  I  think  you  said  }  " 

The  clerk  handed  over  the  key,  and  the  pro- 
fessor gave  the  boy  the  check  for  his  valise  at 
Yates'  suggestion. 

"  Now,  get  a  move  on  you,"  said  Yates  to 
the  elevator  boy.  "  We're  going  right  through 
with  you." 

And  so  the  two  friends  were  s^ot  up  to- 
gether to  the  fifth   floor. 


its.    The 
3,  Buffalo 

e  rU  say 

>> 
ca. 

lerk,  with 

Americans 

lis  Fenian 

lewspaper 

ncught.the 
ire  for  this 
t  I  can  put 
Li  want  the 
ng  to  take 
ike  Canada 
>an  there." 
i  him  as  he 
Then  the 
n  he  looked 
iiewhat  and 
3  the  shght- 

Der  man  at 
ifetime  that 
ce  of  news, 
just  now. 
years ;  so, 
iNo,  let  the 
Ito.    They'll 
1  get  back. 

^nd  the  pro- 
lis  valise  at 


jVot  up  to- 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  sky  parlor,  as  Yates  had  termed  it,  cer- 
tainly commanded  a  very  extensive  view.  Im- 
mediately underneath  was  a  wilderness  of  roofs. 
Farther  along  were  the  railway  tracks  that 
Yates  objected  to ;  and  a  line  of  masts  and 
propeller  funnels  marked  the  windings  of 
Buffalo  Creek,  along  whose  banks  arose 
numerous  huge  elevators,  each  marked  by 
some  tremendous  letter  of  the  alphabet,  done 
in  white  paint  against  the  somber  brown  of  the 
big  building.  Still  farther  to  the  west  was  a 
more  grateful  and  comforting  sight  for  a  hot 
day.  The  blue  lake,  dotted  with  white  sails 
and  an  occasional  trail  of  smoke,  lay  shimmer- 
ing under  the  broiling  sun.  Over  the  water, 
through  the  distant  summer  haze,  there  could 
be  seen  the  dim  line  of  the  Canadian  shore. 

"  Sit  you  down,"  cried  Yates,  putting  both 
hands  on  the  other's  shoulders,  and  pushing 
him  into  a  chair  near  the  window.  Then,  plac- 
ing his  finger  on  the  electric  button,  he  added  : 
"  What  will  you  drink  ?  " 

"  I'll  take  a  glass  of  water,  if  it  can  be  had 
without  trouble,"  said  Renmark. 

Yates'  hand  dropped  from  the  electric  button 
hopelessly  to  his  side,  and  he  looked  reproach- 
fully at  the  professor. 

"  Great  Heavens !  "  he  cried,  "  have  something 
mild.  Don't  go  rashly  in  for  Buffalo  water  be- 
fore you  realize  what  it  is  made  of.  Work  up 
to  it  gradually.  Try  a  sherry  cobbler  or  a  milk 
shake  as  a  starter." 


»3 


14 


ITn  tbe  /Iftldst  ot  Blarma* 


1/ 


i. 


r   / 


"  Thank  you,  no.  A  glass  of  water  will  do 
very  well  for  me.  Order  what  you  like  for 
yourself." 

"  Thanks,  I  can  be  depended  on  for  doing 
that."  He  pushed  the  button,  and,  when  the 
boy  appeared,  said  :  "  Bring  up  an  iced  cobbler, 
and  charge  it  to  Professor  Renmark,  No.  518. 
Bring  also  a  pitcher  of  ice  water  for  Yates,  No. 
520.  There,"  he  continued  gleefully,  "I'm  go- 
ing to  have  all  the  drinks,  except  the  ice  water, 
charged  to  you.  I'll  pay  the  bill,  but  I'll  keep 
the  account  to  hold  over  your  head  in  the  future. 
Professor  Stillson  Renmark,  debtor  to  Metro- 
politan Grand — one  sherry  cobbler,  one  gin 
sling,  one  whisky  cocktail,  and  so  on.  Now, 
then,  Stilly,  let's  talk  business.  You're  not 
married,  I  take  it,  or  you  wouldn't  have  re- 
sponded to  my  invitation  so  promptly."  The 
professor  shook  his  head.  "  Neither  am  I. 
You  never  had  the  courage  to  propose  to  a  girl ; 
and  I  never  had  the  time." 

"  Lack  of  self-conceit  was  not  your  failing  in 
the  old  days,  Richard,"  said  Renmark  quietly. 

Yates  laughed.  "  Well,  it  didn't  hold  me 
back  any,  to  my  knowledge.  Now  I'll  tell  you 
how  I've  got  along  since  we  attended  old  Scrag- 
more's  academy  together,  fifteen  years  ago. 
How  time  does  fly !  When  I  left,  I  tried  teach- 
ing for  one  short  month.  I  had  some  theories 
on  the  education  of  our  youth  which  did  not 
seem  to  chime  in  with  the  prejudices  the 
school  trustees  had  already  formed  on  the 
subject." 

The  professor  was  at  once  all  attention. 
Touch  a  man  on  his  business,  and  he  generally 
responds  by  being  interested. 

"  And  what  were  your  theories  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  I  thought  a  teacher  should  look  after 
the  physical  as  well  as  the  mental  welfare  of 
his  pupils.     It  did  not  seem  to  me  that  his  duty 


f  n  tbe  /IBi&st  of  Blarms, 


15 


will  do 
like  for 

ir  doing 

hen  the 

cobbler, 

No.  518. 

ites,  No. 

'  I'm  go- 

:e  water, 

I'll  keep 

le  future. 

3  Metro- 
one  gin 

n.     Now, 

Du're  not 
have  re- 
ly."    The 

er   am   I. 

;  to  a  girl ; 

•  failing  in 

•k  quietly, 
hold  me 

11  tell  you 
ikl  Scrag- 

kars  ago. 
ied  teach- 
.e  theories 
h  did  not 
idices  the 
on    the 

attention, 
generally 

I  he  asked. 
]  look  after 
I  welfare  of 
lat  his  duty 


to  those  under  his  charge  ended  with  mere 
book  learning." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  the  professor 
cordially. 

"  Thanks.  Well,  the  trustees  didn't.  I 
joined  the  boys  at  their  games,  hoping  my 
example  would  have  an  influence  on  their  con- 
duct on  the  playground  as  well  as  in  the  school- 
room. We  got  up  a  rattling  good  cricket  club. 
You  may  not  remember  that  I  stood  rather 
better  in  cricket  at  the  academy  than  I  did  in 
mathematics  or  grammar.  By  handicapping 
me  with  several  poor  players,  and  having  the 
best  players  among  the  boys  in  opposition,  we 
made  a  pretty  evenly  matched  team  at  school 
section  No.  12.  One  day,  at  noon,  we  began 
a  game.  The  grounds  were  in  excellent  con- 
dition, and  the  opposition  boys  were  at  their 
best.  My  side  was  getting  the  worst  of  it. 
I  was  very  much  interested  ;  and,  when  one 
o'clock  came,  I  thought  it  a  pity  to  call  school 
and  spoil  so  good  and  interesting  a  contest. 
The  boys  were  unanimously  of  the  same  opinion. 
The  girls  were  happy,  picnicking  under  the 
trees.  So  we  played  cricket  all  the  after- 
noon." 

"  I  think  that  was  carrying  your  theory  a 
little  too  far,"  said  the  professor  dubiously. 

"Just  what  the  trustees  thought  when  they 
came  to  hear  of  it.  So  they  dismissed  me ;  and 
I  think  my  leaving  was  the  only  case  on  record 
where  the  pupils  genuinely  mourned  a  teacher's 
departure.  I  shook  the  dust  of  Canada  from 
my  feet,  and  have  never  regretted  it.  I  tramped 
to  Buffalo,  continuing  to  shake  the  dust  off  at 
every  step.  (Hello  !  here's  your  drinks  at  last, 
Stilly.  I  had  forgotten  about  them — an  unusual 
thing  with  me.  That's  all  right,  boy;  charge 
it  to  room  518.  Ah!  that  hits  the  spot  on  a 
hot  day.)     Well,  where  was  I  ?    Oh,  yes,  at 


i6 


•ffn  tbe  /lbit)0t  of  Blarms 


I 


'i     I 


Buffalo.  I  got  a  place  on  a  paper  here,  at  just 
enough  to  keep  life  in  me ;  but  I  liked  the  work. 
Then  I  drifted  to  Rochester  at  a  bigger  salary, 
afterward  to  Albany  at  a  still  bigger  salary,  and 
of  course  Albany  is  only  a  few  hours  from  New 
York,  and  that  is  where  all  newspaper  men 
ultimately  land,  if  they  are  worth  their  salt.  I 
saw  a  small  section  of  the  war  as  special  cor- 
respondent, got  hurt,  and  rounded  up  in  the 
hospital.  Since  then,  although  only  a  reporter. 
I  am  about  the  top  of  the  tree  in  that  line,  and 
make  enough  money  to  pay  my  poker  debts  and 
purchase  iced  drinks  to  soothe  the  asperities 
of  the  game.  When  there  is  anything  big  go- 
ing on  anywhere  in  the  country,  I  am  there, 
with  other  fellows  to  do  the  drudgery  ;  I  writ- 
ing the  picturesque  descriptions  and  interview- 
ing the  big  men.  My  stuff  goes  red-hot 
over  the  telegraph  wire,  and  the  humble  pos- 
tage stamp  knows  my  envelopes  no  more.  I 
am  acquainted  with  every  hotel  clerk  that 
amounts  to  anything  from  New  York  to  San 
Francisco,  If  I  could  save  money,  I  should  be 
rich,  for  I  make  plenty ;  but  the  hole  at  the  top 
of  my  trousers  pocket  has  lost  me  a  lot  of  cash, 
and  I  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  get  it  mended. 
Now,  you've  listened  with  your  customary 
patience  in  order  to  give  my  self-esteem,  as 
you  called  it,  full  sv.'ay.  I  am  grateful.  I  will 
reciprocate.     How  about  yourself?  " 

The  professor  spoke  slowly.  "  I  have  had  no 
such  adventurous  nreer,"  he  began.  "  I  have 
not  shaken  Canadian  dust  from  my  feet,  and 
have  not  made  any  great  success.  I  have 
simply  plodded  ;  and  am  in  no  danger  of  be- 
coming rich,  although  I  sui)pose  I  spend  as 
little  as  any  man.  After  you  were  expel — after 
you  left  the  aca " 

"  Don't  mutilate  the  good  old  English  lan- 
guage,  Stilly.     You    were    right   in    the    first 


fn  tbc  ^i&6t  of  Blarma. 


17 


place.  I  am  no^  thin-skinned.  You  were  say- 
ing after  I  was  expelled.     Go  on." 

"  I  thought  perhaps  it  might  be  a  sore  sub- 
ject. You  remember,  you  were  very  indignant 
at  the  time,  and " 

"  Of  course  I  was — and  am  still,  for  that 
matter.     It  was  an  outrage  !  " 

"  I  thought  it  was  proved  that  you  helped  to 
put  the  pony  in  the  principal's  room." 

"Oh,  certainly.  That.  Of  course.  But 
what  I  detested  was  the  way  the  principal 
worked  the  thing.  He  allowed  that  villain 
Spink  to  turn  evidence  against  us,  and  Spink 
stated  I  originated  the  affair,  whereas  I  could 
claim  no  such  honor.  It  was  Spink's  own  proj- 
ect, which  I  fell  in  with,  as  I  did  with  every 
disreputable  thing  proposed.  Of  course  the 
principal  believed  at  once  that  I  was  the  chief 
criminal.  Do  you  happen  to  know  if  Spink 
has  been  hanged  yet  }  " 

"  I  believe  he  is  a  very  reputable  business 
man  in  Montreal,  and  much  respected." 

"  I  might  have  suspected  that.  Well,  you 
keep  your  eye  on  the  respected  Spink.  If  he 
doesn't  fail  some  day,  and  make  a  lot  of 
money,  I'm  a  Dutchman.  But  go  on.  This 
is  digression.  By  the  way,  just  push  that 
electric  button.  You're  nearest,  and  it  is  too 
hot  to  move.  Thanks.  After  I  was  ex- 
pelled  " 

"  After  your  departure  I  took  a  diploma,  and 
for  a  year  or  two  taught  a  class  in  the  academy. 
Then,  as  I  studied  during  my  spare  time,  I  got 
a  chance  as  master  of  a  grammar  school  near 
Toronto,  chiefly,  as  I  think,  though  the  recom- 
mendation of  Principal  Scragmore.  I  had  my 
degree  by  this  time.     Then " 

There  was  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door. 

"Come  in!"  shouted  Yates.  "  Oh,  it's  you. 
Just  bring  up  another  cooling  cobbler,  will  you  ? 


(I 


tS 


fit  tbe  Al^et  ot  Blarms. 


7 


I 

/I 


and  charge  it,  as  before,  to  Professor  Renmark, 
room  518.     Yes  ;  and  then " 

"  And  then  there  came  the  opening  in  Uni- 
versity College,  Toronto.  I  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  be  appointed.  There  I  am  still,  and 
there  I  suppose  I  shall  stay.  I  know  very  few 
people,  and  am  better  acquainted  with  books 
than  with  men.  Those  whom  I  have  the  privi- 
lege of  knowing  are  mostly  studious  persons, 
who  have  made,  or  will  make,  their  mark  in  the 
world  of  learning.  I  have  not  had  your  ad- 
vantage, of  meeting  statesmen  who  guide  the 
destinies  of  a  great  empire." 

"  No ;  you  always  were  lucky.  Stilly.  My 
experience  is  that  the  chaps  who  do  the  guid- 
ing are  more  anxious  about  their  own  pockets, 
or  their  own  political  advancement,  than  they 
are  of  the  destinies.  Still,  the  empire  seems 
to  take  its  course  westward  just  the  same.  So 
old  Scragmore's  been  your  friend,  has  he  ?  " 

'•  He  has,  indeed." 

"  Well,  he  insulted  me  only  the  other  day." 

"  You  astonish  me.  I  cannot  imagine  so 
gentlemanly  and  scholarly  a  man  as  Principal 
Scragmore  insulting  anybody." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  him  as  I  do.  It  was 
like  this  :  I  wanted  to  find  out  where  you  were, 
for  reasons  that  I  shall  state  hereafter.  I  cudg- 
eled my  brains,  and  then  thought  of  old  Scrag. 
I  wrote  him,  and  inclosed  a  stamped  and  ad- 
dressed envelope,  as  all  unsought  contributors 

should  do.     He  answered But  I  have  his 

reply  somewhere.   You  shall  read  it  for  yourself." 

Yates  pulled  from  his  inside  pocket  a  bundle 
of  letters,  which  he  hurriedly  fingered  over, 
commenting  in  a  low  voice  as  he  did  so  :  "I 
thought  I  answered  that.  Still,  no  matter. 
Jingo  !  haven't  I  paid  that  bill  yet  ?  This  pass  is 
run  out.  Must  get  another."  Then  he  smiled 
and  sighed  as  he  looked  at  a  letter  in  dainty 


•ffn  tbc  ^(det  o"  Blarma. 


19 


Denmark, 

[  in  Uni- 
[ood  for- 
still,  and 
very  few 
th  books 
Lhe  privi- 
persons, 
.rk  in  the 
your  ad- 
fuide  the 

illy.  My 
the  guid- 
pockets, 
han  they 
re  seems 
ime.  So 
he?" 


;r  day." 

lagine 

Principal 


so 


matter, 
is  pass  is 
smiled 
n  dainty 


handwriting  ;  but  apparently  he  could  not  find 
the  document  he  sought. 

"  Oh,  well,  it  doesn't  njatter.  I  have  it  some- 
where. He  returned  me  the  prepaid  envelope, 
and  reminded  me  that  United  States  stamps 
were  of  no  use  in  Canada,  which  of  course  I 
should  have  remembered.  But  he  didn't  pay 
the  postage  on  his  own  letter,  so  that  I  had  to 
fork  out  double.  Still,  I  don't  mind  that,  only 
as  an  indication  of  his  meanness.  He  went  on 
to  say  that,  of  all  the  members  of  our  class,  you 
—you! — were  the  only  one  who  tiad  reflected 
credit  on  it.  That  was  the  insult.  The  idea 
of  his  making  such  a  statement,  when  I  had 
told  him  I  was  on  the  New  York  Argtis  f 
Credit  to  the  class,  indeed !  I  wonder  if  he 
ever  heard  of  Brown  after  he  was  expelled. 
You  know,  of  course.  No  ?  Well,  Brown,  by 
his  own  exertions,  became  president  of  the  Alum 
Bank  in  New  York,  wrecked  it,  and  got  off  to 
Canada  with  a  clear  half  million.  Yes,  sir.  I 
saw  him  in  Quebec  not  six  months  ago.  Keeps 
the  finest  span  and  carriage  in  the  city,  and 
lives  in  a  palace.  Could  buy  out  old  Scragmore 
a  thousand  times,  and  never  feel  it.  Most 
liberal  contributor  to  the  cause  of  education 
that  there  is  in  Canada.  He  says  education 
made  him,  and  he's  not  a  man  to  go  back  on 
education.  And  yet  Scragmore  has  the  cheek 
to  say  that  you  were  the  only  man  in  the  class 
who  reflects  credit  on  it !  " 

The  professor  smiled  quietly  as  the  excited 
journalist  took  a  cooling  sip  of  the  cobbler. 

"  You  see,  Yates,  people's  opinions  differ.  A 
man  like  Brown  may  not  be  Principal  Scrag- 
niore's  ideal.  The  principal  may  be  local  in 
his  ideals  of  a  successful  man,  or  of  one  who 
reflects  credit  on  his  teaching." 

"  Local  ?  You  bet  he's  local.  Too  darned 
local  for  me.     It  would  do  that  man  good  to 


}f  - 


l»:  I 


20 


fn  the  /IRlDst  of  Blarni0. 


k     (i 


live  in  New  York  for  a  year.  But  I'm  going  to 
get  even  with  him.  I'm  going  to  write  him  up. 
I'll  give  him  a  column  and  a  half ;  see  if  I  don't. 
I'll  get  his  photograph,  and  publish  a  news- 
paper portrait  of  him.  If  that  doesn't  make 
him  quake,  he's  a  cast-iron  man.  Say,  you 
haven't  a  photograph  of  old  Scrag  that  you  can 
lend  me,  have  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  ;  but  I  won't  lend  it  for  such  a  pur- 
pose. However,  never  mind  the  principal. 
Tell  me  your  plans.  I  am  at  your  disposal  for 
a  couple  of  weeks,  or  longer  if  necessary." 

"  Good  boy  !  Well,  I'll  tell  you  how  it  is.  I 
want  rest  and  quiet,  and  the  woods,  for  a  week 
or  two.  This  is  how  it  happened  :  I  have 
been  steadily  at  the  grindstone,  except  for  a 
while  in  the  hospital  ;  and  that,  you  will  admit, 
is  not  much  of  a  vacation.  The  work  interests 
me,  and  I  am  always  in  the  thick  of  it.  Now, 
it's  like  this  in  the  newspaper  business  :  Your 
chief  is  never  the  person  to  suggest  that  you 
take  a  vacation.  He  is  usually  short  of  men 
and  long  on  things  to  do,  so  if  you  don't  worry 
him  into  letting  you  off,  he  won't  lose  any  sleep 
over  it.  He's  content  to  let  well  enough  alone 
every  time.  Then  there  is  always  somebody 
who  wants  to  get  away  on  pressing  business, — 
grandmother's  funer?.!,  and  that  sort  of  thing, — 
so  if  a  fellow  is  content  to  work  right  along,  his 
chief  is  quite  content  to  let  him.  That's  the 
way  affairs  have  gone  for  years  with  me.  The 
other  week  I  went  over  to  Washington  to  inter- 
view a  senator  on  the  political  prospects.  I 
tell  you  what  it  is,  Stilly,  without  bragging, 
there  are  some  big  men  in  the  States  whom  no 
one  but  me  can  interview.  And  yet  old  Scrag 
says  I'm  no  credit  to  his  class  !  Why,  last  year 
my  political  predictions  were  telegraphed  all  over 
this  country,  and  have  since  appeared  in  the 
European  press.     No  credit !     By  Jove,  I  would 


^4 


Hn  tbe  Ai^dt  ot  Blarma. 


ax 


going  to 
:  him  up. 
f  I  don't. 

a  news- 
I't  mal^e 
Say,  you 
t  you  can 

ch  a  pur- 
principal, 
iposal  for 

''^■'    .  T 

V  It  IS.       I 

3r  a  week 
:   I   have 
ept   for  a 
/ill  admit, 
:  interests 
it.     Now, 
ss  :  Your 
that  you 
\-t  of  men 
n't  worry 
any  sleep 
gh  alone 
omebody 
isiness, — 
If  thing,— 
[along,  his 
hat's  the 
iTie.     The 
to  inter- 
pects.     I 
ragging, 
^vhom  no 
Id  Scrag 
last  year 
d  all  over 
Id   in   the 
,  I  would 


like  to  have  old  Scrag  in  a  twenty-four-foot  ring, 
with  thin  gloves  on,  for  about  ten  minutes  !  " 

"  I  doubt  if  he  would  shine  under  those  cir- 
cumstances. But  never  mind  him.  He  spoke, 
for  once,  without  due  reflection,  and  with  per- 
haps an  exaggerated  remembrance  of  your 
school-day  offenses.  What  happened  when  you 
went  to  Washington  ?  " 

"  A  strange  thing  happened.  When  I  was 
admitted  to  the  senator's  library,  I  saw  another 
fellow,  whom  I  thought  I  knew,  sitting  there. 
I  said  to  the  senator :  '  I  will  come  when  you 
are  alone.'  The  senr^tor  looked  up  in  surprise, 
and  said  :  '  I  am  alone.'  I  didn't  say  anything, 
but  went  on  with  my  interview  ;  and  the  other 
fellow  took  notes  all  the  time.  I  didn't  like 
this,  but  said  nothing,  for  the  senator  is  not  a 
man  to  offend,  and  it  is  by  not  offending  these 
fellows  that  I  can  get  the  information  I  do. 
Well,  the  other  fellow  came  out  with  me,  and 
as  I  looked  at  him  I  saw  that  he  was  myself. 
This  did  not  strike  me  as  strange  at  the  time, 
but  I  argued  with  him  all  the  way  to  New  York, 
and  tried  to  show  him  that  he  wasn't  treating 
me  fairly.  I  wrote  up  the  interview,  with  the 
other  fellow  interfering  all  the  while,  so  I  com- 
promised, and  half  the  time  put  in  what  he  sug- 
gested, and  half  the  time  what  I  wanted  in  myself. 
When  the  political  editor  went  over  the  stuff, 
he  looked  alarmed,  I  told  him  frankly  just  how 
I  had  been  interfered  with,  anc'  he  looked  none 
the  less  alarr.ied  when  I  had  finished.  He  sent 
at  once  for  a  doctor.  The  doctor  metaphor- 
ically took  me  to  pieces,  and  then  said  to  my 
chief :  '  This  man  is  simply  worked  to  death. 
He  must  have  a  vacation,  and  a  real  one,  with 
absolutely  nothing  to  think  of,  or  he  is  going  to 
collapse,  and  that  with  a  suddenness  which  will 
surprise  everybody.'  The  chief,  to  my  aston- 
ishment,  consented    without    a  murmur,  and 


i ; 


93 


ITn  tbc  /RfOst  or  Blarmg. 


even  upbraided  me  for  not  going  away  sooner. 
Then  the  doctor  said  to  nie  :  '  You  get  some 
companion — some  man  with  no  brains,  if  pos- 
sible, who  will  not  discuss  politics,  who  has  no 
opinion  on  anything  that  any  sane  man  would 
care  to  talk  about,  and  who  couldn't  say  a 
bright  thing  if  he  tried  for  a  year.  Get  such  a 
man  to  go  off  to  the  woods  somewhere.  Up  in 
Maine  or  in  Canada.  As  far  away  from  post 
offices  and  telegraph  offices  as  possible.  And, 
by  the  way,  don't  leave  your  address  at  the 
Argus  office.'  Thus  it  happened,  Stilly,  when 
he  described  this  man  so  graphically,  I  at  once 
thought  of  you." 

"  I  am  deeply  gratified,  I  am  sure,"  said  the 
professor,  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile,  "  to  be  so 
promptly  remembered  in  such  a  connection, 
and  if  I  can  be  of  service  to  you,  I  shall  be  very 
glad.  I  take  it,  then,  that  you  have  no  intention 
of  stopping  in  Buffalo  }  " 

"You  bet  I  haven't.  I'm  in  for  the  forest 
primeval,  the  murmuring  pines  and  the  hem- 
lock, bearded  with  moss  and  green  in  the  some- 
thing or  other — I  forget  the  rest.  I  want  to 
quit  lying  on  paper,  and  lie  on  my  back  instead, 
on  the  sward  or  in  a  hammock.  I'm.  going  to 
avoid  all  boarding  houses  or  delightful  summer 
resorts,  and  go  in  for  the  quiet  of  the  forest." 

"  There  ought  to  be  some  nice  places  along 
the  lake  shore." 

"  No,  sir.  No  lake  shore  for  me.  It  would 
remind  me  of  the  Lake  Shore  Railroad  when  it 
was  calm,  and  of  Long  Branch  when  it  was 
rough.  A^o,  sir.  The  woods,  the  woods,  and 
the  woods.  I  have  hired  a  tent  and  a  lot  of 
cooking  things.  I'm  going  to  take  that  tent 
over  to  Canada  to-morrow ;  and  then  I  propose 
we  engage  a  man  with  a  team  to  cart  it  some- 
where into  the  woods,  fifteen  or  twenty  miles 
away.    We  shall  have  to  be  near  a  farmhouse, 


Vn  tbe  ISsi^Bt  of  Blacma* 


23 


so  that  we  can  get  fresh  butter,  milk,  and  eggs. 
This,  of  course,  is  a  disadvantage  ;  but  I  shall 
try  to  get  near  someone  who  has  never  even 
heard  of  New  York." 

"  You  may  find  that  somevvliat  difficult." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  have  great  hopes  of 
the  lack  of  intelligence  in  the  Canadians." 

'•  Often  the  narrowest,"  said  the  professor 
slowly,  "  are  those  who  think  themselves  the 
most  costnop(  'itan." 

"  Right  you  are,"  cried  Yates,  skimming 
lightly  over  the  remark,  and  seeing  nothing 
applicable  to  his  case  in  it.  "  Well,  I've  laid  in 
about  half  a  ton,  more  or  less,  of  tobacco,  and 
have  bought  an  empty  jug." 

"  An  empty  one  ?  " 

"Yes.  Among  the  few  things  worth  having 
that  the  Canadians  possess,  is  good  whisky. 
Besides,  the  empty  jar  will  save  trouble  at  the 
customhouse.  I  don't  suppose  Canadian  rye 
is  as  good  as  the  Kentucky  article,  but  you  and 
I  will  have  to  scrub  along  on  it  for  a  while. 
And,  talking  of  whisky,  just  press  the  button 
once  again." 

The  professor  did  so,  saying  : 

"  The  doctor  made  no  remark,  I  suppose, 
about  drinking  less  or  smoking  less,  did  he  ?  " 

"  In  my  case  ?  Well,  come  to  think  of  it, 
there  was  some  conversation  in  that  direction. 
Don't  remember  at  the  moment  just  what  it 
amounted  to  ;  but  all  physicians  have  their  little 
fads,  you  know.  It  doesn't  do  to  humor  them 
too  much.  Ah,  boy,  there  you  are  again. 
Well,  the  professor  wants  another  drink.  Make 
it  a  gin  fizz  this  time,  and  put  p^  .ty  of  ice  in 
it ;  but  don't  neglect  the  gin  on  that  account. 
Certainly;  charge  it  to  room  518." 


I  ■> 


V  a 


I 


I 
1^ 


I 


•1'' 
0'" 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  What's  all  this  tackle  ?  "  asked  the  burly 
and  somewhat  red-faced  customs  officer  at  Fort 
Erie. 

"  This,"  said  Yates,  "  is  a  tent,  with  the  poles 
and  pegs  appertaining  thereto.  These  are  a 
number  of  packages  of  tobacco,  on  which  I 
shall  doubtless  have  to  pay  something  into  the 
exchequer  of  her  Majesty.  This  is  a  jug  used 
for  the  hokiMg  of  liquids.  I  beg  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is  at  present  empty, 
which  unfortunately  prevents  me  making  a  liba- 
tion to  the  rites  of  good-fellowship.  What  my 
friend  has  in  that  valise  I  don't  know,  but  1 
suspect  a  gambling  outfit,  and  would  advise  you 
to  search  him." 

"  My  valise  contains  books  principally,  with 
some  articles  of  wearing  apparel,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, opening  his  grip. 

The  customs  officer  looked  with  suspicion  on 
the  whole  outfit,  and  evidently  did  not  like  the 
tone  of  the  American.  He  seemed  to  be  treat- 
ing the  customs  department  in  a  light  and  airy 
manner,  and  the  officer  was  too  much  impressed 
by  the  dignity  of  his  position  not  to  resent  flip- 
pancy. Besides,  there  were  rumors  of  Fenian 
invasion  in  the  air,  and  the  officer  resolved  that 
no  Fenian  should  get  into  the  country  without 
paying  duty. 

"  Where  are  you  going  with  this  tent  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  you  can 
tell  us.    i  don't  know  the  country  about  here. 


i 


94 


Ifn  tbe  /l&i^at  of  Blarma. 


H 


he  burly 
r  at  Fort 

the  poles 
se  are  a 
which  I 
;  into  the 
jug  used 
call  your 
nt  empty, 
ng  a  liba- 
What  my 
DW,  but  1 
dvise  you 


.picion  on 
)t  like  the 
be  treat- 
.  and  airy 
impressed 
esent  flip- 
of  Fenian 
olved  that 
■y  without 


Say,  Stilly,  I'm  off  uptown  to  attend  to  the 
emptiness  in  this  stone  utensil.  I've  been 
empty  too  often  myself  not  to  sympathize  with 
its  condition.  You  wrestle  this  matter  out 
about  the  tent.  You  know  the  ways  of  the 
country,  whereas  I  don't." 

It  was  perhaps  as  well  that  Yates  left  negotia- 
tions in  the  hands  of  his  friend.  Ht  was  quick 
enough  to  see  that  he  made  no  headway  w^ith 
the  officer,  but  rather  the  opposite.  He  slung 
the  jar  ostentatiously  over  his  shoulder,  to  the 
evident  discomfort  of  the  professor,  and 
marclied  up  the  hill  to  the  nearest  tavern, 
vvhistling  one  of  the  lately  popular  war  tunes. 

*'  Now,"  he  said  to  the  barkeeper,  placing 
the  jar  tenderly  on  the  bar,  "fill  that  up  to  the 
nozzle  with  the  best  rye  you  have.  Fill  it  with 
the  old  familiar  juice,  as  the  late  poet  Omar 
saith." 

The  bartender  did  as  he  was  requested. 

"  Can  you  disguise  a  little  of  that  fluid  in  any 
way,  so  that  it  may  be  taken  internally  without 
a  man  suspecting  what  he  is  swallowing.''  " 

The  barkeeper  smiled.  "How  would  a 
cocktail  fill  the  vacancy?  " 

"  I  can  suggest  nothing  better,"  replied 
Yates.  "  If  you  Pre  sure  you  know  how  to 
make  it." 

The  man  did  not  resent  this  imputation  of 
ignorance.  He  merely  said,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  gives  an  incontrovertible  answer : 

"  I  am  a  Kentucky  man  myself." 

"  Shake !  "  cried  Yates  briefly,  as  he  reached 
his  hand  across  the  bar.  "  How  is  it  you  hap- 
pen to  be  here  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  got  into  a  little  trouble  in  Louisville, 
and  here  I  am,  where  I  can  at  least  look  at 
God's  country." 

"  Hold  on,"  protested  Yated.  "  You're  mak- 
ing only  one  cocktail." 


.] 


36 


•ffn  the  Itsit^Bt  of  Blarms. 


N    ^\ 


It 


'ii' 


I 


"f 


1* 


if 

it  5 


"  Didn't  you  say  one  ?  "  asked  the  man, 
pausing  in  the  compounding. 

"  Bless  you,  I  never  saw  one  cocktail  made 
in  my  life.     You  are  with  me  on  this." 

"Just  as  you  say,"  replied  the  other,  as  he 
prepared  enough  for  two. 

"  Now  I'll  tell  you  my  fix,"  said  Yates  con- 
fidentially. "  I've  got  a  tent  and  some  camp 
things  down  below  at  the  customhouse  shanty, 
and  I  want  to  get  them  taken  into  the  woods, 
where  I  can  camp  out  with  a  friend.  I  want 
a  place  where  we  can  have  absolute  rest  and 
quiet.  Do  you  know  the  country  round  here  ? 
Perhaps  you  could  recommend  a  spot." 

'*  Well,  for  all  the  time  I've  been  here,  I  know 
precious  little  about  the  back  country.  I've 
been  down  the  road  to  Niagara  Falls,  but  never 
back  in  the  woods.  I  suppose  you  want  some 
place  by  the  lake  or  the  river.''  " 

•'  No,  I  don't.  I  want  to  get  clear  back  into 
the  forest — if  there  is  a  forest." 

"  Well,  there's  a  man  in  to-day  from  some- 
where near  Ridgeway,  I  think.  He's  got  a  hay 
rack  with  him,  and  that  would  be  just  the  thing 
to  take  your  tent  and  poles.  Wouldn't  be  very 
comfortable  traveling  for  you,  but  it  would  be 
all  right  for  the  tent,  if  it's  a  big  one." 

"  That  will  suit  us  exactly.  We  don't  care  a 
cent  about  the  comfort.  Roughing  it  is  what 
we  came  for.     Where  will  I  find  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  along  here  soon.  That's  his 
team  tied  there  on  the  side  street.  If  he  hap- 
pens to  be  in  good  humor,  he'll  take  your 
things,  and  as  like  as  not  give  you  a  place  to 
camp  in  his  woods.  Hiram  Bartlett's  his  name. 
And,  talking  of  the  old  Nick  himself,  here  he  is. 
I  say,  Mr.  Bartlett,  this  gentleman  was  wonder- 
ing if  you  couldn't  tote  out  some  of  his  belong- 
ings.    He's  going  out  your  way." 

Bartlett  was  a  somewhat  uncouth  and  wiry 


tn  tbe  flSf&0t  of  aiarma. 


87 


5   man, 

1  made 

,  as  he 

es  con- 
e  camp 
shanty, 
woods, 
I  want 
est  and 
\  here? 

I  know 
^  I've 
Lit  never 
nt  some 

ack  into 


some- 
t  a  hay 

he  thing 
be  very 

ould  be 

t  care  a 
is  what 


nd  wiry 


specimen  of  the  Canadian  farmer  who  evidently 
paid  httle  attention  to  the  subject  of  dress.  He 
said  nothing,  but  looked  in  a  lowering  way  at 
Yates,  with  something  of  contempt  and  sus- 
picion in  his  glance. 

Yates  had  one  receipt  for  making  the  ac- 
quaintance of  all  mankind.  "  Come  in,  Mr. 
Bartlett,"  he  said  cheerily,  "  and  try  one  of  my 
friend's  excellent  cocktails." 

"  I  take  mine  straight,"  growled  Bartlett 
gruffly,  although  he  stepped  inside  the  open 
door.  "  I  don't  want  no  Yankee  mixtures  in 
mine.  Plain  whisky's  good  enough  for  any 
man,  if  he  z's  a  man.  I  don't  take  no  water, 
neither.     I've  got  trouble  enough." 

The  bartender  winked  at  Yates  as  he  shoved 
the  decanter  over  to  the  newcomer. 

"  Right  you  arc,"  assented  Yates  cordially. 

The  farmer  did  not  thaw  out  in  the  least  be- 
cause of  this  prompt  agreement  with  him,  but 
sipped  his  whisky  gloomily,  as  if  it  were  a  most 
disagreeable  medicine. 

'-  What  did  you  want  me  to  take  out  ?  "  he 
said  at  last. 

"  A  friend  and  a  tent,  a  jug  of  whisky  and  a 
lot  of  jolly  good  tobacco." 

"  How  much  are  you  willing  to  pay  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I'm  always  willing  to  do 
what's  right.  How  would  five  dollars  strike 
you  ?  " 

The  farmer  scowled  and  shook  his  head. 

•*  Too  much,"  he  said,  as  Yates  was  about  to 
offer  more.  "  'Taint  worth  it.  Two  and  a  half 
would  be  about  the  riglit  figure.  Don'no  but 
that's  too  much.  I'll  think  on  it  going  home, 
and  charge  you  what  it's  worth.  I'll  be  ready 
to  leave  in  about  an  hour,  if  that  suits  you. 
That's  my  team  on  the  other  side  of  the  road. 
If  it's  gone  when  you  come  back,  I'm  gone,  an' 
you'll  have  to  get  somebody  else," 


h 


88 


•ffn  tbc  /BbiDst  ot  Blarms. 


f 


n     *, 


With  this  Bartlett  drew  his  coat  sleeve  across 
his  mouth  and  departed. 

"  That's  him  exactly,"  said  the  barkeeper. 
"  He's  the  most  cantankerous  crank  in  the 
township.  And  say,  let  me  ^ive  you  a  pointer. 
If  the  subject  of  1812  comes  up, — the  war,  you 
know, — you'd  better  admit  that  we  got  thrashed 
out  of  our  boots  ;  that  is,  if  you  want  to  get 
along  with  Hiram.  He  hates  Yankees  like 
poison." 

'•  And  did  we  get  thrashed  in  1812  ?  "  asked 
Yates,  who  was  more  familiar  with  current 
topics  than  with  the  history  of  the  past. 

"  Blessed  if  1  know.  Hiram  says  we  did.  I 
told  him  once  that  we  got  what  we  wanted 
from  old  England,  and  he  nearly  hauled  me 
over  the  bar.  So  I  give  you  the  warning,  if 
you  want  to  get  along  with  him." 

"Thank  you.     I'll  remember  it.     So  long." 

This  friendly  hint  from  the  man  in  the  tavern 
offers  a  key  to  the  solution  of  the  problem  of 
Yates'  success  on  the  New  York  press.  He 
could  get  news  when  no  other  man  could. 
Flippant  and  shallow  as  he  undoubtedly  was, 
he  somehow  got  into  the  inner  confidences  of 
all  sorts  of  men  in  a  way  that  made  them  give 
him  an  inkling  of  anything  that  was  going  on 
for  the  mere  love  of  him  ;  and  thus  Yates  often 
received  valuable  assistance  from  his  acquaint- 
ances which  other  reporters  could  not  get  for 
money. 

The  New  Yorker  found  the  professor  sitting 
on  a  bench  by  the  customhouse,  chatting  with 
the  officer,  and  gazing  at  the  rapidly  flowing 
broad  blue  river  in  front  of  them. 

"  I  have  got  a  man,"  said  Yates,  "who  will 
take  us  out  into  the  wilderness  in  about  an 
hour's  time.  Suppose  we  explore  the  town.  I 
expect  nobody  will  run  away  with  the  tent  till 
we  come  back." 


V 


irn  tbe  /RiD0t  of  Blarms. 


29 


across 

weeper, 
in  the 
)ointer. 
ar,  you 
irashed 
to  get 
es    like 

'  asked 
current 

did.  I 
wanted 
lied  me 
rning,  if 

ong." 
e  tavern 
)blem  of 
:ss.     He 

could. 
lly  was, 
nces  of 
em  give 
joing  on 
es  often 
cquaint- 

gct  for 

sitting 
|ng  with 
flowing 

rho  will 
Ibout  an 
lown.     I 

tent  till 


'•  I'll  look  after  that,"  said  the  officer  ;  and, 
thanking  him,  the  two  friends  strolled  up  the 
street.  They  were  a  trifle  late  in  getting  back, 
and  when  they  reached  the  tavern,  they  found 
Bartlett  just  on  the  point  of  driving  home.  He 
gruffly  consented  to  take  them,  if  they  did  not 
keep  him  more  than  five  minutes  loading  up. 
The  tent  and  its  belongings  were  speedily 
placed  on  the  hay  rack,  and  then  Bartlett  drove 
up  to  the  tavern  and  waited,  saying  nothing,  al- 
though he  had  been  in  such  a  hurry  a  few 
moments  before.  Yates  did  not  like  to  ask  the 
cause  of  the  delay ;  so  the  three  sat  there 
silently.  After  a  while  Yates  said  as  mildly  as 
he  could  : 

"  Are  you  waiting  for  anyone,  Mr.  Bartlett  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  driver  in  a  surly  tone. 
"  I'm  waiting  for  you  to  go  in  fur  that  jug.  I 
don't  suppose  you  filled  it  to  leave  it  on  the 
counter." 

"  By  Jove !  "  cried  Yates,  springing  off,  "  I 
had  forgotten  all  about  it,  which  shows  the  ex- 
traordinary effect  this  country  has  on  me 
already."  The  professor  frowned,  but  Yates 
came  out  merrily,  with  the  jar  in  his  hand,  and 
Bartlett  started  his  team.  They  drove  out  of 
the  village  and  up  a  slight  hill,  going  for  a 
mile  or  two  along  a  straight  and  somewhat 
sandy  road.  Then  they  turned  into  the  Ridge 
Road,  as  Bartlett  called  it,  in  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion by  the  professor,  and  there  was  no  need  to 
ask  why  it  was  so  termed.  It  was  a  good  high- 
way, but  rather  stony,  the  road  being,  in  places, 
on  the  bare  rock.  It  paid  not  the  slightest 
attention  to  Euclid's  definition  of  a  straight 
line,  and  in  this  respect  was  rather  a  welcome 
change  from  the  average  American  road.  Some- 
times they  passed  along  avenues  of  overbranch- 
ing  trees,  which  were  evidently  relics  of  the 
forest  that  once  covered  all  the  district.    The 


'/(.  ^ 


30 


f  n  tbc  flSlDst  ot  Blarms. 


I  ^  ' 


(i. ; 


;♦ 


ill 


I 


/ 


^1- 


road  followed  the  ridge,  and  on  each  side  were 
frequently  to  be  seen  wide  vistas  of  lower  lying 
country.  All  along  the  road  were  comfortable 
farmhouses ;  and  it  was  evident  that  a  prosper- 
ous community  flourished  along  the  ridge. 

Bartlett  spoke  only  once,  and  then  to  the 
professor,  who  sat  next  to  him. 

"  You  a  Canadian  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Where's  he  from  ?  " 

"  My  friend  is  from  New  York,"  answered  the 
innocent  professor. 

"  Humph  ! "  grunted  Bartlett,  scowling 
deeper  than  ever,  after  which  he  became  silent 
again.  The  team  was  not  going  very  fast, 
although  neither  the  load  nor  the  road  was 
heavy.  Bartlett  was  muttering  a  good  deal  to 
himself,  and  now  and  then  brought  down  his 
whip  savagely  on  one  or  the  other  of  the  horses  ; 
but  the  moment  the  unfortunate  animals  quick- 
ened their  pace  he  hauled  them  in  roughly. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  going  quickly  enough  to 
be  overtaking  a  young  woman  who  was  walking 
on  alone.  Although  she  must  have  heard  them 
coming  over  the  rocky  road  she  did  not  turn 
her  head,  but  walked  along  with  the  free  and 
springy  step  of  one  who  is  not  only  accustomed 
to  walking,  but  who  likes  it.  Bartlett  paid  no 
attention  to  the  girl ;  the  professor  was  en- 
deavoring to  read  his  thin  book  as  well  as  a 
man  might  who  is  being  jolted  frequently  ;  but 
Yates,  as  soon  as  he  recognized  that  the  pedes- 
trian was  young,  pulled  up  his  collar,  adjusted 
his  necktie  with  care,  and  placed  his  hat  in  a 
som.ewhat  more  jaunty  and  fetching  position. 

"  Are  you  going  to  offer  that  girl  a  ride  ?  "  he 
said  to  Bartlett. 

"No,  I'm  not." 

"  I  think  that  is  rather  uncivil,"  he  added, 
forgetting  the  warning  he  had  had.  :-, 


fn  tbc  /ftfD6t  of  Blarma. 


3^ 


T. 


the 


at  in  a 
ion. 
?"  he 


added, 


"  You  do,  eh  ?  Well,  you  offer  her  a  ride. 
You  hired  the  team." 

"  By  Jove  !  I  will,"  said  Yates,  placing  his  hand 
on  the  outside  of  the  rack,  and  springing  lightly 
to  the  ground. 

"  Likely  thing,"  growled  Bartlett  to  the  pro- 
fessor, "  that  she's  going  to  ride  with  the  like  of 
him." 

The  professor  looked  for  a  moment  at  Yates, 
politely  taking  off  his  hat  to  the  apparently 
astonished  young  woman,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"Fur  two  cents,"  continued  Bartlett,  gather- 
ing up  the  reins,  "  I'd  whip  up  the  horses,  and 
let  him  walk  the  rest  of  the  way." 

"  From  what  I  know  of  my  friend,"  answered 
the  professor  slowly,  *'  I  think  he  would  not 
object  in  the  slightest." 

I3artlett  muttered  something  to  himself,  and 
seemed  to  change  his  mind  about  galloping  his 
horses. 

Meanwhile,  Yates,  as  has  been  said,  took  off 
his  hat  with  great  politeness  to  the  fair  pedes- 
trian, and  as  he  did  so  he  noticed,  with  a  thrill 
of  admiration,  that  she  was  very  handsome. 
Yates  always  had  an  eye  for  the  beautiful. 

"  Our  conveyance,"  he  began,  "  is  not  as 
comfortable  as  it  might  be,  yet  I  shall  be  very 
happy  if  you  will  accept  its  hospitalities." 

The  young  woman  flashed  a  brief  glance  at 
him  from  her  dark  eyes,  and  for  a  moment 
Yates  feared  that  his  language  had  been  rather 
too  choice  for  her  rural  understanding,  but 
before  he  could  amend  his  phrase  she  answered 
briefly : 

"  Thank  you.     I  prefer  to  walk." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  blame  you.  May 
I  ask  if  you  have  come  all  the  way  from  the 
village  ?  " 

••  Yes." 

"  That  is  a  long  distance,  and  you  must  be 


32 


•ffn  tbc  flbiDet  of  Blarma. 


111 


111 


k 


very  tired."  There  was  no  reply ;  so  Yates 
continued.  "  At  least,  I  thought  it  a  long  dis- 
tance ;  but  perhaps  that  was  because  1  was 
riding  on  Bartlett's  hay  rack.  There  is  no 
'  downy  bed  of  ease  '  about  his  vehicle." 

As  he  spoke  of  the  wagon  he  looked  at  it, 
and,  striding  forward  to  its  side,  said  in  a  husky 
whisper  to  the  professor  : 

"  Say,  Stilly,  cover  up  that  jug  with  a  flap  of 
the  tent." 

"  Cover  it  up  yourself,"  briefly  replied  the 
other  ;  "  it  isn't  mine." 

Yates  reached  across  and,  in  a  sort  of  acci- 
dental way,  threw  the  flap  of  the  tent  over  the 
too  conspicuous  jar.  As  an  excuse  for  his 
action  he  took  up  his  walking  cane  and  turned 
toward  his  new  acquaintance.  He  was  flattered 
to  see  that  she  was  loitering  some  distance 
behind  the  wagon,  and  he  speedily  rejoined  her. 
The  girl,  looking  straight  ahead,  now  quickened 
her  pace,  and  rapidly  shortened  the  distance 
between  herself  and  the  vehicle.  Yates,  with 
the  quickness  characteristic  of  him,  made  up 
his  mind  that  this  was  a  case  of  country 
diffidence,  which  was  best  to  be  met  by  the 
bringing  down  of  his  conversation  to  the  level 
of  his  hearer's  intelligence. 

"  Have  you  been  marketing.^  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Butter  and  eggs,  and  that  sort  of  thing  ?  " 

"  We  are  farmers,"  she  answered,  "  and  we 
sell  butter  and  eggs  " — a  pause—"  and  that 
sort  of  thing. " 

Yates  laughed  in  his  light  and  cheery  way. 
As  he  twirled  his  cane  he  looked  at  his  pretty 
companion.  She  was  gazing  anxiously  ahead 
toward  a  turn  in  the  road.  Her  comely  face 
was  slightly  flushed,  doubtless  with  the  exercise 
of  walking. 

"  Now,  in  my  country,"  continued  the  New 


|l 


tn  tbe  ^i^at  ot  Blarma. 


33 


Yorker,  "  we  idolize  our  women.     Pretty  girls 
don't  tramp  miles  to   market  with  butter  and 

eggs." 

"  Aren't  the  girls  pretty — in  your  country  ?" 

Yates  made  a  mental  note  that  there  was  not 
as  much  rurality  about  this  girl  as  he  had 
thought  at  first.  There  was  a  piquancy  about 
the  conversation  which  he  liked.  That  she 
shared  his  enjoyment  was  doubtful,  for  a  slight 
line  of  resentment  was  noticeable  on  her  smooth 
brow. 

"You  bet  they're  pretty!  I  think  all 
American  girls  are  pretty.  It  seems  their  birth- 
right. When  I  say  American,  I  mean  the 
whole  continent,  of  cuurse.  I'm  from  the 
States  myself — from  New  York."  He  gave  an 
extra  twirl  to  his  cane  as  he  said  this,  and  bore 
himself  with  that  air  of  conscious  superiority 
which  naturally  pertains  to  a  citizen  of  the 
metropolis.  "  But  over  in  the  States  we  think 
the  men  should  do  all  the  work,  and  that  the 
women  should — well,  spend  the  money.  I 
must  do  our  ladies  the  justice  to  say  that  they 
attend  strictly  to  their  share  of  the  arrange- 
ment." 

"  It  should  be  a  delightful  country  to  live 
in — for  the  women." 

"  They  all  say  so.  We  used  to  have  an 
adage  to  the  effect  that  America  was  paradise 
for  women,  purgatory  for  men,  and — well,  an 
entirely  different  sort  of  place  for  oxen," 

There  was  no  doubt  that  Yates  had  a  way 
of  getting  along  with  people.  As  he  looked 
at  his  companion  he  was  gratified  to  note  just 
the  faintest  suspicion  of  a  smile  hovering  about 
her  lips.  Before  she  could  answer,  if  she  had 
intended  to  do  so,  there  was  a  quick  clatter  of 
hoofs  on  the  hard  road  ahead,  and  next  instant 
an  elegant  bugg^,  whose  slender  jet-black 
polished   spokes   flashed   and   twinkled  in  the 


34 


tn  tbe  ^iOdt  ot  Blacm0« 


It  ■ 


;! 


sunlight,  came  dashing  past  the  wagon.  On 
seeing  the  two  walking  together  the  driver 
hauled  up  his  team  with  a  suddenness  that 
was  evidently  not  relished  by  the  spirited 
dappled  span  he  drove. 

"  Hello,  Margaret !  "  he  cried  ;  "  am  I  late  ? 
Have  you  walked  in  all  the  way  ?  " 

"  You  are  just  in  good  time,"  answered  the 
girl,  without  looking  toward  Yates,  who  stood 
aimlessly  twirling  his  cane.  The  young  woman 
put  her  foot  on  the  buggy  step,  and  sprang 
lightly  in  beside  the  driver.  It  needed  no 
second  glance  to  see  that  he  was  her  brother, 
not  only  on  account  of  the  family  resemblance 
between  them,  but  also  because  he  allowed  her 
to  get  into  the  buggy  without  offering  the 
slightest  assistance,  which,  indeed,  was  not 
needed,  and  gracirusly  permitted  her  to  place 
the  duster  that  covered  his  knees  over  her  own 
lap  as  well.  The  restive  team  trotted  rapidly 
down  the  road  for  a  few  rods,  until  they  came 
to  a  wide  place  in  the  highway,  and  then 
whirled  around,  seemingly  within  an  ace  of  up- 
setting the  buggy  ;  but  the  young  man  evidently 
knew  his  business,  and  held  them  in  with  a 
firm  hand.  The  wagon  was  jogging  along 
where  the  road  was  very  narrow,  and  Bartlett 
kept  his  team  stolidly  in  the  center  of  the  way. 

•'  Hello,  there,  Bartlett !  "  shouted  the  young 
man  in  the  buggy ;  "  half  the  road,  you  know — 
half  the  road." 

"Take  it,"  cried  Bartlett  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Come,  come,  Bartlett,  get  out  of  the  way, 
or  I'll  run  you  down." 

"  You  just  try  it." 

Bartlett  either  had  no  sense  of  humor  or  his 
resentment  against  his  young  neighbor  smoth- 
ered it,  since  otherwise  he  would  have  recog- 
nized that  a  heavy  wagon  was  in  no  danger  of 
being  run  into  by  a  light  and  expensive  buggy. 


f  n  tbe  Abiddt  ot  Blarme. 


35 


d 


The  young  man  kept  his  temper  admirably,  but 
he  knew  just  where  to  touch  the  elder  on  the 
raw.  His  sister's  hand  was  placed  appealingly 
on  his  arm.  He  smiled,  and  took  no  notice  of 
her. 

"  Come,  now,  you  move  out,  or  I'll  have  the 
law  on  you." 

"  The  law  ! "  roared  Bartlett ;  "  you  just  try 
it  on." 

*•  Should  think  you'd  had  enough  of  it  by 
this  time." 

"  Oh.  don't,  don't,  Henry !  "  protested  the 
girl  in  distress. 

"  There  aint  no  law,"  yelled  Bartlett,  "  that 
kin  make  a  man  with  a  load  move  out  fur  any- 
thing." 

"  You  haven't  any  load,  unless  it's  in  that 

jug." 

Yates  saw  with  consternation  that  the  jar 
had  been  jolted  out  from  under  its  covering, 
but  the  happy  consolation  came  to  him  that  the 
two  in  the  buggy  would  believe  it  belonged  to 
Bartlett.  He  thought,  however,  that  this  dog- 
in-the-manger  policy  had  gone  far  enough. 
He  stepped  briskly  forward,  and  said  to  Bart- 
lett: 

"Better  drive  aside  a  little,  and  let  them 
pass." 

"  You  'tend  to  your  own  business,"  cried  the 
thoroughly  enraged  farmer. 

"  I  will,"  said  Yates  shortly,  striding  to  the 
horses'  heads.  He  took  them  by  the  bits  and, 
in  spite  of  Bartlett's  maledictions  and  pulling 
at  the  Hnes,  he  drew  them  to  one  side,  so  that 
the  buggy  got  by. 

"  Thank  you  I  "  cried  the  young  man.  The 
light  and  glittering  carriage  rapidly  disap- 
peared up  the  Ridge  Road. 

Bartlett  sat  there  for  one  moment  the  pic- 
ture of  baffled  rage.    Then  he  threw  the  reins 


/* 


I     l) 


f!il^ 


VI ' 


36 


Ifn  tbe  /IMDdt  of  Blarmd* 


down  on  the  backs  of  his  patient  horses,  and 
descended. 

"  You  take  my  horses  by  the  head,  do  you, 
you  good-fur-nuthin'  Yank?  You  do,  eh^  I 
like  your  cheek.  Touch  my  horses  an'  me 
a-holdin'  tiie  Hnes !  Now,  you  hear  me  ? 
Your  traps  comes  right  off  here  on  the  road. 
You  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  anybody  within  a  niiiv"?  can  hear  you." 

"Kin  they?   Well,  off  comes  your  pesky  tent." 

"  No,  it  doesn't." 

"Don't  it,  eh?  Well,  then,  you'll  lick  me 
fust ;  and  that's  something  no  Yank  ever  did 
nor  kin  do." 

"  I'll  do  it  With  pleasure." 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  the  professor,  getting 
down  on  the  road,  "  this  has  gone  far  enough. 
Keep  quiet,  Yates.  Now,  Mr.  Bartlett,  don't 
mind  it ;  he  meant  no  disrespect." 

"  Don't  you  interfere.  You're  all  right,  an'  I 
aint  got  nothin'  ag'in  you.  But  I'm  goin'  to 
thrash  this  Yank  within  an  inch  of  his  life  ; 
see  if  I  don't.  We  met  'em  in  181 2,  an'  we  fit 
'em  an'  we  licked  'em,  an'  we  can  do  it  ag'in. 
I'll  learn  ye  to  take  my  horses  by  the  head." 

"  Teach,"  suggested  Yates  tantalizingly. 

Before  he  could  properly  defend  himself, 
Bartlett  sprang  at  him  and  grasped  him  round 
the  waist.  Yates  was  something  of  a  wrestler 
himself,  but  his  skill  was  of  no  avail  on  this 
occasion.  Bartlett 's  right  leg  became  twi^^ed 
around  his  with  a  steel-like  grip  that  speedily 
convinced  the  younger  man  he  would  have  to 
give  way  or  a  bone  would  break.  He  gave  way 
accordingly,  and  the  next  thing  he  knew  he 
came  down  on  nis  back  with  a  thud  that 
seemed  to  shake  the  universe. 

"  There,  darn  ye  ! "  cried  the  triumphant 
farmer;  "that's  1812  and  Queenstown 
Heights  for  ye.     How  do  you  like  'em  ?  " 


■  1/  ■  ' 


Ifn  tbe  Abidst  of  Blatms. 


37 


' 


Yates  rose  to  his  feet  with  some  deliberation, 
and  slowly  took  off  his  coat. 

"  Now,  now,  Yates,"  said  the  professor 
soothingly,  "  let  it  go  at  this.  You're  not  hurt, 
are  you?"  he  asked  anxiously,  as  he  noticed 
how  white  the  young  man  was  around  the  lips. 

"  Look  here,  Renmark ;  you're  a  sensible 
man.  There  is  a  time  to  interfere  and  a  time 
not  to.  This  is  the  time  not  to.  A  certain 
international  element  seems  to  have  crept  into 
this  dispute.  Now,  you  stand  aside,  like  a 
good  fellow,  foi  I  don't  want  to  have  to  thrash 
both  of  )ou." 

The  professor  stood  aside,  for  he  rea.ized 
that,  when  Yates  called  him  by  his  last  name, 
matters  were  serious. 

"  Now,  old  chucklehead,  perhaps  you  would 
like  to  try  that  again." 

"  I  kin  do  it  a  dozen  times,  if  ye  aint  satisfied. 
There  aint  no  Yank  ever  raised  on  pumpkin 
pie  that  can  stand  ag'in  that  grapevine  twist." 

"  'i  ry  the  grapevine  once  more." 

Bartlett  proceeded  more  cautiously  this  time, 
for  there  was  a  look  in  the  young  man's  face  he 
did  not  quite  like.  He  took  a  catch-as-catch- 
can  attitude,  and  moved  stealthily  in  a  semi- 
circle around  Yates,  who  shifted  his  position 
constantly  so  as  to  keep  facing  his  foe.  At 
last  Bartlett  sprang  forward,  and  the  next  in- 
stant found  himself  sitting  on  a  piece  of  the 
rock  of  the  country,  with  a  thousand  humming 
birds  buzzing  in  his  head,  while  stars  and  the 
landscape  around  joined  in  a  dance  together. 
The  blow  was  sudden,  well  placed,  and  from 
the  shoulder. 

"  That,"  said  Yates,  standing  over  him,  "  is 
1776 — the  Revolution— when,  to  use  your  own 
phrase,  we  met  ye,  fit  ye,  and  licked  ye. 
How  do  you  like  it  ?  No  r,  if  my  advice  is  of 
any  use  to  you,  take  a  broader  view  of  history 


III 


^  ; 


: 


I'-J 


38 


fn  tbe  /ISiDdt  ot  Blarma. 


than  you  have  done.  Don't  confine  yourself  too 
much  to  one  period.  Study  up  the  War  of  the 
Revolution  a  bit." 

Lc^rtlett  made  no  reply.  After  sitting  there 
for  a  wiiile,  until  the  surrounding  landscape  as- 
sumed its  normal  condition,  he  arose  leisurely, 
without  saying  a  word.  He  picked  the  reins 
from  the  backs  of  the  horses  and  patted  the 
nearest  animal  gently.  Then  he  mounted  to  his 
place  and  drove  off.  The  professor  had  taken 
his  seat  beside  the  driver,  but  Yates,  putting  on 
his  coat  and  picking  up  his  cane,  strode  along 
in  front,  switching  off  the  heads  of  Canada 
thistles  with  his  walking  stick  as  he  proceeded. 


II 


M 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Bartlett  was  silent  for  a  long  time,  but 
there  was  evidently  something  on  his  mind,  for 
he  communed  with  himself,  his  mutterings 
growing  louder  and  louder,  until  they  broke  the 
stillness ;  then  he  struck  the  horses,  pulled 
them  in,  and  began  his  soliloquy  over  again. 
At  last  he  said  abruptly  to  the  professor : 

"What's  this  Revolution  he  talked  about?" 

"  It  was  the  War  of  Independence,  beginning 
in  1776." 

•'  Never  heard  of  it.  Did  the  Yanks  fight 
us?" 

"  The  colonies  fought  with  England." 

"  What  colonies  ?  " 

"  The  country  now  called  the  United  States." 

"  They  fit  with  England,  eh  ?  Which 
licked  ?  " 

"The  colonies  won  their  independence." 

"  That  means  they  licked  us.  I  don't  believe 
a  word  of  it.  'Pears  to  me  I'd  'a'  heard  of  it ; 
fur  I've  lived  in  these  parts  a  long  time." 

"  It  was  a  little  before  your  day." 

"  So  was  181 2  ,  out  my  father  fit  in  it,  an'  I 
never  heard  him  tell  of  this  Revolution.  He'd 
'a'  known,  I  sh'd  think.  There's  a  nigger  in 
the  fence  somewheres." 

"  Well,  England  was  rather  busy  at  the  time 
with  the  French." 

"  Ah,  that  was  it,  was  it  ?  I'll  bet  England 
never  knew  the  Revolution  was  a-goin'  on  till 
it  was  over.    Old  Napoleon  couldn't  thrash  'em, 

S9 


w 


40 


ITn  tbe  /IB(&0t  of  Blarma. 


r 

I    I 

i 

^ 


i 


IT 


■} 


11 


and  it  don't  stand  to  reason  that  the  Yanks 
could.  I  thought  there  was  some  skullduggery. 
Why,  it  took  the  Yanks  four  years  to  lick  them- 
selves. I  got  a  book  at  home  all  about  Napo- 
leon.    He  was  a  tough  cuss." 

The  professor  did  not  feel  called  upon  to 
defend  the  character  of  Napoleon,  and  so  si- 
lence once  more  descended  upon  them.  Bart- 
lett  seemed  a  good  deal  disturbed  by  the  news 
he  had  just  heard  of  the  Revolution,  and  he 
growled  to  himself,  while  the  horses  suffered 
more  than  usual  from  the  whip  and  the  hauling 
back  that  invariably  followed  the  stroke.  Yates 
was  some  distance  ahead,  and  swinging  along 
at  a  great  rate,  when  the  horses,  apparently  of 
their  own  accord,  turned  in  at  an  open  gateway 
and  proceeded,  in  their  usual  leisurely  fashion, 
toward  a  large  barn,  past  a  comfortable  frame 
house  with  a  wide  veranda  in  front, 

"  This  is  my  place,"  said  Bartlett  shortly. 

"  I  wisli  you  had  told  me  a  few  minutes  ago," 
replied  the  professor,  springing  off,  "  so  that  I 
might  have  called  to  my  friend." 

"  I'm  not  frettin'  about  him,"  said  Bartlett, 
throwing  the  reins  to  a  young  man  who  came 
out  of  the  house. 

Renmark  ran  to  the  road  and  shouted  loudly 
to  the  distant  Yates.  Yates  apparently  did  not 
hear  him,  but  something  about  the  next  house 
attracted  the  pedestrian's  attention,  and  after 
standing  for  a  moment  and  gazing  toward  the 
west  he  looked  around  and  saw  the  professor 
beckoning  to  him.  When  the  two  men  met, 
Yates  said : 

"  So  we  have  arrived,  have  we  ?  I  say.  Stilly, 
she  lives  in  the  next  house.  I  saw  the  buggy 
in  the  yard." 

"  She  ?    Who  }  " 

"  Why.  that  good-looking  girl  we  passed  on 
the  road.     I'm  going  to  buy  our  supplies  at 


'li^i 


•ffn  tbe  /iftlDat  of  Blarma. 


41 


that  house,  Stilly,  if  you  have  no  objections. 
By  the  way,  how  is  my  old  friend  1812  ?  " 

"  He  doesn't  seen^  to  harbor  any  harsh  feel- 
ings. In  fact,  he  was  more  troubled  about  the 
Revolution  than  about  the  blow  you  gave  him." 

"  News  to  him,  eh  ?  Well,  I'm  glad  I 
knocked  something  into  his  head." 

"You  certainly  did  it  most  unscientifically." 

•'  How  do  you  mean — unscientifically  ?  " 

"  In  the  delivery  of  the  blow.  I  never  saw  a 
more  awkwardly  delivered  undercut." 

Yates  looked  at  his  friend  in  astonishment. 
How  should  this  calm,  learned  man  know  any- 
thing about  undercuts  or  science  in  blows  ? 

"  Well,  you  must  admit  I  got  there  just  the 
same." 

"  Yes,  by  brute  force.  A  sledge  hammer 
would  have  done  as  well.  But  you  had  such 
an  opportunity  to  do  it  neatly  and  deftly,  with- 
out any  display  of  surplus  energy,  that  I  re- 
gretted to  see  such  an  opening  thrown  away." 

"  Heavens  and  earth.  Stilly,  this  is  the  pro- 
fessor in  a  new  light !  What  do  you  teach  in 
Toronto  University,  anyhow  ?  The  noble  art 
of  self-defense  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly ;  but  if  you  intend  to  go 
through  Canada  in  this  belligerent  manner,  I 
think  it  would  be  worth  your  while  to  take  a 
few  hints  from  me." 

"  With  striking  examples,  I  suppose.  By 
Jove  !  I  will.  Stilly." 

As  the  two  came  to  the  house  they  found 
Ba.tlett  sitting  in  a  wooden  rocking  chair  on 
the  veranda,  looking  grimly  down  the  road. 

"  What  an  old  tyrant  that  man  must  be  in  his 
home  ! "  said  Yates.  There  was  no  time  for  the 
professor  to  reply  before  they  came  within  ear- 
shot. 

"  The  old  woman's  setting  out  supper,"  said 
the    farmer  gruffly,  that  piece  of  information 


z 


4a 


f  n  tbe  ltsit>et  of  Blarms. 


iM  I 


i'!  '    I 


r^  I 


being  apparently  as  near  as  he  could  get  to- 
ward inviting  them  to  share  his  hospitality. 
Yates  didn't  know  whether  it  was  meant  for  an 
invitation  or  not,  but  he  answered  shortly  : 

"  Thanks,  we  won't  stay." 

"  Speak  fur  yourseli,  please,"  snarled  Bartlett. 

"  Of  course  I  go  with  my  friend,"  said  Ren- 
mark  ;  "  but  we  are  obliged  for  the  invitation." 

"  Please  yourselves." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  a  cheery  voice  from 
the  inside  of  the  house,  as  a  stout,  rosy,  and 
very  good-natured-looking  woman  appeared  at 
the  front  door.  "  Won't  stay  ?  PF/io  won't 
stay?  I'd  like  to  see  anybody  leave  my  house 
hungry  when  there's  a  meal  on  the  table  !  And, 
young  men,  if  you  can  get  a  better  meal  any- 
where on  the  Ridge  than  what  I'll  give  you, 
why,  you're  welcome  to  go  there  next  time,  but 
this  meal  you'll  have  here,  inside  of  ten  minutes. 
Hiram,  that's  your  fault.  You  always  invite  a 
person  to  dinner  as  if  you  wanted  to  wrastle 
with  him ! " 

Hiram  gave  a  guilty  start,  and  looked  with 
something  of  mute  appeal  at  the  two  men,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  Never  mind  him,"  continued  Mrs.  Bartlett. 
'*  You're  at  my  house ;  and,  whatever  my 
neighbors  may  say  ag'in  me,  I  never  heard  any- 
body complain  of  the  lack  of  good  victuals  while 
I  was  able  to  do  the  cooking.  Come  right  in 
and  wash  yourselves,  for  the  road  between  here 
and  the  fort  is  dusty  enough,  even  if  Hiram 
never  was  taken  up  for  fast  driving.  Besides,  a 
wash  is  refreshing  after  a  hot  day." 

There  was  no  denying  the  cordiality  of  this 
invitation,  and  Yates,  whose  natural  gallantry 
was  at  once  aroused,  responded  with  the  readi- 
ness of  a  courtier.  Mrs.  Bartlett  led  the  way 
into  the  house ;  but  as  Yates  passed  the  farmer 
the  latter  cleared  his  throat  with  an  effort,  and, 


ii    ) 


•ffn  tbc  /iRiOet  of  Blarma. 


43 


lis 


throwing  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  in  the 
direction  his  wife  had  taken,  said  in  a  husky 
whisper: 

"  No  call  to — to  mention  the  Revolution,  you 
know." 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Yates,  with  a  wink 
that  took  in  the  situation.  "  Shall  we  sample 
the  jug  before  or  after  supper  ?  " 

"  After,  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you  ; "  adding, 
"  out  in  the  barn." 

Yates  nodded,  and  followed  his  friend  into 
the  house. 

Tlie  young  men  were  shown  into  a  bedroom 
of  more  than  ordinary  size,  on  the  upper  floor. 
Everything  about  the  house  was  of  the  most 
dainty  and  scrupulous  cleanliness,  and  an  air 
of  cheerful  comfort  pervaded  the  place.  Mrs. 
Bartlett  was  evidently  a  housekeeper  to  be 
proud  of.  Two  large  pitchers  of  cool,  soft  water 
awaited  them,  and  the  wash,  as  had  been  pre- 
dicted, was  most  refreshing. 

"  I  say,"  cried  Yates,  "  it's  rather  cheeky  to 
accept  a  man's  hospitality  after  knocking  him 
down." 

"  It  would  be  for  most  people,  but  I  think  you 
underestimate  your  cheek,  as  you  call  it." 

"  Bravo,  Stilly !  You're  blossoming  out. 
That's  rapartee,  that  is.  With  the  accent  on 
the  rap,  too.  Never  you  mind  ;  I  think  old  1812 
and  I  will  get  on  all  right  after  this.  It  doesn't 
seem  to  bother  him  any,  so  I  don't  see  why  it 
should  worry  me.  Nice  motherly  old  lady, 
isn't  she.-* " 

"Who.?     1812?" 

"No;  Mrs.  1812.  I'm  sorry  I  complimented 
you  on  your  repartee.  You'll  get  conceited. 
Remember  that  what  in  the  newspaper  man  is 
clever,  in  a  grave  professor  is  rank  flippancy. 
Let's  go  down." 

The  table  was  covered  witli  a  cloth  as  whitr 


" 


44 


Ifn  tbe  /ibiDdt  of  Blarms. 


i 


\\  *■ 


and  spotless  as  good  linen  can  well  be.  The 
bread  was  genuine  homemade,  a  term  so  often 
misused  in  the  cities.  It  was  brown  as  to 
crust,  and  flaky  and  light  as  to  interior.  The 
butter,  cool  from  the  rock  cellar,  was  of  a  re- 
freshing yellow  hue.  The  sight  of  the  well- 
loaded  table  was  most  welcome  to  the  eyes  of 
hungry  travelers.  There  was,  as  Yates  after- 
ward remarked,  "  abundance,  and  plenty  of  it." 

"  Come,  father!  "  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett,  as  the 
young  men  appeared  ;  they  heard  the  rocking 
chair  creak  on  the  veranda  in  prompt  answer 
to  the  summons. 

"  This  is  my  son,  gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  Bart- 
lett, indicating  the  young  man  who  stood  in  a 
noncommittal  attitude  near  a  corner  of  the  room. 
The  professor  recognized  him  as  the  person  who 
had  taken  charge  of  the  horses  when  his  father 
came  home.  There  was  evidently  something 
of  his  father's  demeanor  about  the  young  man, 
who  awkwardly  and  silently  responded  to  the 
recognition  of  the  strangers. 

"  And  this  is  my  daughter,"  continued  the 
good  woman.  "  Now,  what  might  your  names 
be?" 

"  My  name  is  Yates,  and  this  is  my  friend 
Professor  Renmark  of  T'ronto,"  pronouncing 
the  name  of  the  fair  city  in  two  syllables,  as  is, 
alas  !  too  often  done.  The  professor  bowed, 
and  Yates  cordially  extended  his  hand  to  the 
young  woman.  "  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Bart- 
lett ?  "  he  said,     "  I  am  happy  to  meet  you." 

The  girl  smiled  very  prettily,  and  said  she 
hoped  they  had  a  pleasant  trip  out  from  Fort 
Erie. 

"  Oh,  we  had,"  said  Yates,  looking  for  a  mo- 
ment at  his  host,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
tablecloth,  and  who  appeared  to  be  quite  con- 
tent to  let  his  wife  run  the  show.  "  The  road's 
a  little  rocky  in  places,  but  it's  very  pleasant." 


_^ 


•ffn  tbe  /BbfDat  of  Blarms. 


45 


"  Now,  you  sit  down  here,  and  you  here,"  said 
Mrs.  Bartlett ;  "  and  I  do  hope  you  have 
brought  good  appetites  with  you." 

The  strangers  took  their  places,  and  Yates 
had  a  chance  to  look  at  the  younger  member  of 
the  family,  which  opportunity  he  did  not  let  slip. 
It  was  hard  to  believe  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  so  crusty  a  man  as  Hiram  Bartlett.  Her 
cheeks  were  rosy,  with  dimples  in  them  that 
constantly  came  and  went  in  her  incessant 
efforts  to  keep  from  laughing.  Her  hair,  which 
hung  about  her  plump  siioulders,  was  a  lovely 
golden  brown.  Although  her  dress  was  of  the 
cheapest  material,  it  was  neatly  cut  and  fitted  ; 
and  her  dainty  white  apron  added  that  touch  of 
wholesome  cleanliness  which  was  so  noticeable 
everywhere  in  the  house.  A  bit  of  blue  ribbon 
at  her  white  throat,  and  a  pretty  spring  flower 
just  below  it,  completed  a  charming  picture, 
which  a  more  critical  and  less  susceptible  man 
than  Yates  might  have  contemplated  with 
pleasure. 

Miss  Bartlett  sat  smilingly  at  one  end  of  the 
table,  and  her  father  grimly  at  the  other.  The 
mother  sat  at  the  side,  api)arently  looking  on 
that  position  as  one  of  vantage  for  command- 
ing the  whole  field,  and  keeping  her  husband 
and  her  daughter  both  under  her  eye.  The 
teapot  and  cups  were  set  before  the  young 
woman.  She  did  not  pour  out  the  tea  at  once, 
but  seemed  to  be  waiting  instructions  from  her 
mother.  That  good  lady  was  gazing  with 
some  sternness  at  her  husband,  he  vainly 
endeavoring  to  look  at  the  ceiling  or  anywhere 
but  at  her.  He  drew  his  open  hand  nervously 
down  his  face,  which  was  of  unusual  gravity 
even  for  him.  P'inally  he  cast  an  appealing 
glance  at  his  wife,  who  sat  with  her  hands 
folded  on  her  lap,  but  her  eyes  were  unrelent- 
ing.    After  a  moment's  hopeless   irresolution 


m 


46 


lln  tbc  /BM^st  ot  Blarme. 


m 


I  ■ 

rl«  I 


?l} 


. . 


f 


f  •; 


( 


11 

1,'  f 
i 


Bartlett  bent  his  head  over  his  plate  and  mur- 
mured : 

"  P'or  what  we  are  about  to  receive,  oh,  make 
us  truly  thankful.     Amen." 

Mrs.  Bartlett  echoed  the  last  word,  having 
also  bowed  her  head  when  she  saw  surrender 
in  the  troubled  eyes  of  her  husband. 

Now,  it  happened  that  Yates,  who  had  seen 
nothing  of  this  silent  struggle  of  the  eyes,  being 
exceedingly  hungry,  was  making  eveiy  prepara- 
tion for  the  energetic  beginning  of  the  meal. 
He  had  spent  most  of  his  life  in  hotels  and 
New  York  boarding  houses,  so  that  if  he  ever 
knew  the  adage,  "Grace  before  meat,"  he  had 
forgotten  it.  In  the  midst  of  his  preparations 
came  the  devout  words,  and  they  came  upon 
him  as  a  stupefying  surprise.  Although 
naturally  a  resourceful  man,  he  was  not  quick 
enough  this  time  to  cover  his  confusion.  Miss 
Bartlett's  golden  head  was  bowed,  but  out  of 
the  corner  of  her  eye  she  saw  Yates'  look  of 
amazed  bewilderment  and  his  sudden  halt  of 
surprise.  When  all  lieads  were  raised,  the 
young  girl's  still  remained  where  it  was,  while 
her  plump  shoulders  quivered.  Then  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  apron,  and  the  silvery 
ripple  of  a  laugh  came  like  a  smothered  musical 
chime  trickling  through  her  fingers. 

"Why,  Kitty!''  cried  her  mother  in  as- 
tonishment, "  whatever  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  " 

The  girl  could  no  longer  restrain  her  mirth. 
"You'll  have  to  pour  out  the  tea,  mother!  "  she 
exclaimed,  as  she  fled  from  the  room. 

"  For  the  land's  sake  !  "  cried  the  astonished 
mother,  rising  to  take  her  frivolous  daughter's 
place,  "what  ails  the  child  .''  I  don't  see  what 
there  is  to  laugh  at." 

Hiram  scowled  down  the  table,  and  was  evi- 
dently also  of  the  opinion  that   there  was  no 


tn  tbe  /nbtdet  of  Blarms. 


47 


\i 


no 


occasion  for  mirth.  The  professor  was  equally 
in  the  dark. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mrs.  Bartlett,"  said  Yates, 
"that  I  am  the  innocent  cause  of  Miss  Kitty's 
mirth.  You  see,  madam — it's  a  pathetic  thing 
to  say,  but  really  I  have  had  no  home  life. 
Although  I  attend  church  regularly,  of  course," 
he  added  with  jaunty  mendacity,  "  I  must  con- 
fess that  I  haven't  heard  grace  at  meals  for 
years  and  years,  and — well,  I  wasn't  just  pre- 
pared for  it.  I  have  no  doubt  I  made  an  ex- 
hibition of  myself,  which  your  daughter  was 
quick  to  see." 

*'  It  wasn't  very  polite,"  said  Mrs.  Bartlett 
with  some  asperity. 

"  I  know  that,"  pleaded  Yates  with  contrition, 
"  but  I  assure  you  it  was  unintentional  on  my 
part." 

"Bless  the  man!"  cried  his  hostess.  "I 
don't  mean  you.  1  mean  Kitty.  But  that  girl 
never  cou/(/  keep  her  face  straight.  She  always 
favored  me  more  than  her  father." 

This  statement  was  not  difficult  to  believe, 
for  Hiram  at  that  moment  looked  as  if  he  had 
never  smiled  in  his  life.  He  sat  silent  through- 
out the  meal,  but  Mrs.  Bartlett  talked  quite 
enough  for  two. 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  know 
what  farming's  coming  to !  Henry  Howard 
and  Margaret  drove  past  here  this  afternoon 
as  proud  is  Punch  in  their  new  covered  buggy. 
Things  IS  very  different  from  what  they  was 
when  I  was  a  girl.  Then  a  farmer's  daughter 
had  to  work.  Now  Margaret's  took  her  diploma 
at  the  ladies'  college,  and  Arthur  he's  begun  at 
the  university,  and  Henry's  sporting  round  in 
a  new  buggy.  They  have  a  piano  there,  with 
the  organ  moved  out  into  the  back  room." 

"  The  whole  Howard  lot's  a  stuck-up  set," 
muttered  the  farmer. 


.[ft 
!  (i 


Ui 


48 


irn  tbc  /Ibidet  of  Blarms* 


ii    I 


But  Mrs.  Bartlett  wouldn't  have  that.  Any 
detraction  that  was  necessary  she  felt  com- 
petent to  supply,  without  help  from  the  nominal 
head  of  the  house. 

"  No,  I  don't  go  so  far  as  to  say  that.  Neither 
would  you,  Hiram,  if  you  hadn't  lost  your  law- 
suit about  the  line  fence ;  and  served  you  right, 
too,  for  it  wouldn't  have  been  begun  if  I  had 
been  at  home  at  the  time.  Not  but  what  Mar- 
garet's a  good  housekeeper,  for  she  wouldn't  be 
her  mother's  daughter  if  she  wasn't  that;  but 
it  does  seem  to  me  a  queer  way  to  raise  farmers' 
children,  and  I  only  hope  they  can  keep  it  up. 
There  were  no  pianos  nor  French  and  German 
in  fny  young  days." 

"  You  ought  to  hear  her  play!  My  lands!" 
cried  young  Bartlett,  who  spoke  for  the  first 
time.  His  admiration  for  her  accomplishment 
evidently  went  beyond  his  powers  of  expression. 

Bartlett  himself  did  not  relish  the  turn  the 
conversation  had  taken,  and  he  looked  some- 
what uneasily  at  the  two  strangers.  The  pro- 
fessor's countenance  was  open  and  frank,  and 
he  was  listening  with  respectful  interest  to  Mrs. 
Bartlett's  talk.  Yates  bent  over  his  plate  with 
flushed  face,  and  confined  himself  strictly  to  the 
business  in  hand. 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  the  professor  innocently  to 
Yates,  "  that  you  made  the  young  lady's  ac- 
quaintance. I  must  ask  you  for  an  introduc- 
tion." 

For  once  in  his  life  Yates  had  nothing  to  say, 
but  he  looked  at  his  friend  with  an  expression 
that  was  not  kindly.  The  latter,  in  answer  to 
Mrs.  Bartlett's  inquiries,  told  how  they  had 
passed  Miss  Howard  on  the  road,  and  how 
Yates,  with  his  usual  kindness  of  heart,  had 
offered  the  young  woman  the  hospitalities  of  the 
hay  rack.  Two  persons  at  the  table  were  much 
relieved  when  the  talk  turned  to  the  tent.     It 


I-   •  ! 


k 


f  n  tbc  /ftf&0t  of  Blarma. 


49 


say, 

ission 

er  to 

had 

how 

had 

)f  the 

much 

It 


was  young  Hiram  who  brought  about  this  boon. 
He  was  interested  in  the  tent,  and  he  wanted  to 
know.  Two  things  seemed  to  bother  the  boy : 
First,  lie  was  anxious  to  learn  what  (HaboHcal 
cause  had  been  iit  work  to  induce  two  appar- 
ently sane  men  to  give  up  the  comforts  of  home 
and  live  in  this  exposed  manner,  if  they  were  not 
compelled  to  do  so.  Second,  he  desired  to  find 
out  why  people  who  had  the  privilege  of  living 
in  large  cities  came  of  their  own  accord  into  the 
uninteresting  country,  anyhow.  Even  when  ex- 
planations were  offered,  the  problem  seemed 
still  beyond  him. 

After  the  meal  they  all  adjourned  to  the  ver- 
anda, where  the  air  was  cool  and  the  view 
extensive.  Mrs.  Bartlett  would  not  hear  of  the 
young  men  pitching  the  tent  that  night. 

"  Goodness  knows,  you  will  have  enough  of  it, 
with  the  rain  and  the  mosquitoes.  We  have  plenty 
of  room  here,  and  you  will  have  one  comfortable 
night  on  ihe  Ridge,  at  any  rate.  Then  in  the 
morning  you  can  find  a  place  in  the  woods  to 
suit  you,  and  my  boy  will  take  an  ax  and  cut 
stakes  for  you,  and  help  to  put  up  your  precious 
tent.  Only  remember  thitt  when  it  rains  you 
are  to  come  to  the  house,  or  you  will  catch  your 
deaths  with  cold  and  rheumatism,  It  will  be 
very  nice  till  the  novelty  wears  off ;  then  you 
are  quite  welcome  to  the  front  rooms  uj^stairs, 
and  Hiram  can  take  the  tent  back  to  Erie  the 
first  time  he  goes  to  town." 

Mrs.  Bartlett  had  a  way  of  taking  things  for 
granted.  It  never  seemed  to  occur  to  her  that 
any  of  her  rulings  might  be  questioned.  Hiram 
sat  gazing  silently  at  the  road,  as  if  all  this  was 
no  affair  of  his. 

Yates  had  refused  a  chair,  and  sat  on  the 
edge  of  the  veranda,  with  his  back  against  one 
of  the  pillars,  in  such  a  position  that  he  might, 
without   turning   his   head,   look   through   the 


i 


'.* 


•1' 


I 


n 


i 


50 


tfn  tbe  /iSl^st  of  Blarms. 


open  doorway  into  the  room  where  Miss  Bart- 
lett  was  busily  but  silently  clearing-  away  the 
tea  things.  The  young  man  caught  fleeting 
glimpses  of  her  as  she  moved  airily  about  her 
work.  He  drew  a  cigar  from  his  case,  cut  off 
the  end  with  his  knife,  and  lit  a  match  on  the 
sole  of  his  boot,  doing  this  with  an  easy  auto- 
matic familiarity  that  required  no  attention  on 
his  part  ;  all  of  which  aroused  the  respectful 
envy  of  young  Hiram,  who  sat  on  a  wooden 
chair,  leaning  forward,  eagerly  watching  the 
man  from  New  York. 

"Have  a  cigar .^"  said  Yates,  offering  the 
case  to  young  Hiram. 

"  No,  no  ;  thank  you,"  gasped  the  boy,  aghast 
at  the  reckless  audacity  of  the  {proposal. 

"What's  that?"  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett.  Al- 
though she  was  talking  volubly  to  the  professor, 
her  maternal  vigilance  never  even  nodded,  much 
less  slept.  "A  cigar.?  Not  likely!  I'll  say 
this  for  my  husband  and  my  boy :  that,  what- 
ever else  they  may  have  done,  they  have  never 
smoked  nor  touched  a  drop  of  liquor  since  I've 
known  them,  and,  please  God,  they  never  will." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  it  wouldn't  hurt  them,"  said 
Yates,  with  a  lack  of  tact  that  was  not  habitual. 
He  fell  several  degrees  in  the  estimation  of  his 
hostess. 

"  Hurt  'em  ? "  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett  indig- 
nantly. "  I  guess  it  won't  get  a  chance  to." 
She  turned  to  the  professor,  who  was  a  good 
listen  spectful  and  deferential,  with  little 

to  '■  himself.     She  rocked  gently  to  and 

^  .id  talked. 

;r  husband  sat  unbendingly  silent,  in  a 
spninxlike  attitude  that  gave  no  outward  indica- 
tion of  his  mental  uneasiness.  He  was  thinking 
gloomily  that  it  would  be  just  his  luck  to  meet 
Mrs.  Bartlett  unexpectedly  in  the  streets  of 
Fort  Erie  on  one  of  those  rare  occasions  when 


fin  tbc  IS^i^et  ot  Blavmd. 


51 


he  was  enjoying  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  sea- 
son. He  had  the  most  pessimistic  forebod- 
ings of  what  the  future  might  have  in  store  for 
him.  Sometimes,  when  neighbors  or  customers 
"  treated  "  him  in  the  village,  and  he  felt  he 
had  taken  all  the  whisky  that  cloves  would  con- 
ceal, he  took  a  five-cent  cigar  instead  of  a  drink. 
He  did  not  particularly  like  the  smoking  of  it, 
but  there  was  a  certain  devil-may-care  reckless- 
ness in  going  down  the  street  with  a  lighted 
cigar  in  his  teeth,  which  had  all  the  more  fasci- 
nation for  him  because  of  its  manifest  danger. 
He  felt  at  these  times  that  he  was  going  the 
pace,  and  that  it  is  well  our  women  do  not  know 
of  all  the  wickedness  there  is  in  this  world. 
He  did  not  fear  that  any  neighbor  might  tell 
his  wife,  for  there  were  depths  to  which  no 
person  could  convince  Mrs.  Bartlett  he  would 
descend.  But  he  thought  with  horror  of  some 
combination  of  circumstances  that  might  bring 
his  wife  to  town  unknown  to  him  on  a  day 
when  he  indulged.  He  pictured,  with  a  shud- 
der, meeting  her  unexpectedly  on  the  uncertain 
plank  sidewalk  of  Fort  Erie,  he  smoking  a 
cigar.  When  this  nightmare  presented  itself  to 
him,  he  resolved  never  to  touch  a  cigar  again  ; 
but  he  well  knew  that  the  best  resolutions  fade 
away  if  a  man  is  excited  with  two  or  three 
glasses  of  liquor. 

When  Mrs.  Bartlett  resumed  conversation 
with  the  professor,  Yates  looked  up  at  young 
Hiram  and  winkcJ.  The  boy  flushed  with 
pleasure  under  the  comprehensiveness  of  that 
wink.  It  included  him  in  the  attractive  halo 
of  crime  that  enveloped  the  fascinating  per- 
sonahty  of  the  man  from  New  York.  It  seemed 
to  say '; 

"  That's  all  right,  but  we  are  men  ot  the 
world.      We  know." 

Young  Hiram's    devotion   to    the   Goddess 


ih 


52 


Ifn  tbe  ^fOst  of  Blacms. 


Nicotine  had  never  reached  the  altitude  of  a 
cigar.  He  had  surreptitiously  smoked  a  pipe 
in  a  secluded  corner  behind  the  barn  in  days 
when  his  father  was  away.  He  feared  both  his 
father  and  his  mother,  and  so  was  in  an  even 
more  embarrassing  situation  than  old  Hiram 
himself.  He  had  worked  gradually  up  to 
tobacco  by  smoking  cigarettes  of  cane  made 
from  abandoned  hoop-skirts.  Crinoline  was 
fashionable,  even  in  the  country,  in  those  days, 
and  ribs  of  can'"  were  used  before  the  metallic 
distenders  of  d  sses  came  in.  One  hoop-skirt, 
whose  usefulness  as  an  article  of  adornment 
was  gone,  would  furnish  delight  and  smoking 
material  for  a  company  of  boys  for  a  month. 
The  cane  smoke  made  the  tongue  rather  raw, 
but  the  wickedness  was  undeniable.  Yates' 
wink  seemed  to  recognize  young  Hiram  as  a 
comrade  worthy  to  offer  incense  at  the  shrine, 
and  the  boy  was  a  firm  friend  of  Yates  from 
the  moment  the  eyelid  of  the  latter  drooped. 

The  tea  things  having  been  cleared  away, 
Yates  got  no  more  glimpses  of  the  girl  through 
the  open  door.  He  rose  from  his  lowly  seat 
and  strolled  toward  the  gate,  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets.  He  remembered  that  he  had  for- 
gotten something,  and  cudgeled  his  brains  to 
make  out  what  it  was.  He  gazed  down  the 
road  at  the  house  of  the  Howards,  which 
naturally  brought  to  his  recollection  his  meet- 
ing with  the  young  girl  on  the  road.  There 
was  a  pang  of  discomfiture  in  this  thought 
when  he  remembered  the  accomplishments 
attributed  to  her  by  Mrs.  Bartlett.  He  recalled 
his  condescending  tone  to  her,  and  recollected 
his  anxiety  about  the  jar.  The  jar !  That 
was  what  he  had  forgotten.  He  flashed  a 
glance  at  old  Hiram,  and  noted  that  the  farmer 
was  looking  at  him  with  something  like  re- 
proach in   his  eyes.     Yates  moved   his  head 


I 


i 


•ffn  tbe  M^0t  of  Blarms, 


53 


almost  imperceptibly  toward  the  barn,  and  the 
farmer's  eyes  dropped  to  the  floor  of  the 
veranda.  The  young  man  nonchalantly 
strolled  past  the  end  of  the  house. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  to  look  after  the  horses," 
said  the  farmer,  rising. 

"  The  horses  are  all  right,  father.  I  saw  to 
them,"  put  in  l^iis  son,  but  the  old  man  frowned 
him  down,  and  slouched  around  the  corner  of 
the  house.  Mrs.  Bartlett  vas  too  busy  talking 
to  the  professor  to  notice.  So  good  a  listener 
did  not  fall  to  her  lot  every  day. 

"  Here's  looking  at  you,"  said  Yates,  strolling 
into  the  barn,  taking  a  telescopic  metal  cup 
from  his  pocket,  and  clinking  it  into  receptive 
shape  by  a  jerk  of  the  hand.  He  offered  the 
now  elongated  cup  to  Hiram,  who  declined  any 
such  modern  improvement. 

"  Help  yourself  in  that  thing.  The  jug's  good 
enough  for  me." 

"  Three  fingers  "  of  the  liquid  gurgled  out 
into  the  patented  vessel,  and  the  farmer  took 
the  jar,  after  a  furtive  look  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  here's  luck."  The  newspaper  man 
tossed  off  the  potion  with  the  facility  of  long 
experience,  shutting  up  the  dish  with  his  thumb 
and  finger,  as  if  it  were  a  metallic  opera  hat. 

The  farmer  drank  silently  from  the  jar  itself. 
Then  he  smote  in  the  cork  with  his  open  palm. 

"Better  bury  it  in  the  wheat  bin,"  he  said 
morosely.  "  The  boy  might  find  it  if  you  put  it 
among  the  oats — feedin'  the  horses,  ye  know." 

'*  Mighty  good  place,"  assented  Yates,  as  the 
golden  grain  flowed  in  a  wave  over  the  sub- 
merged jar.  "  I  say,  old  man,  you  know  the 
spot ;  you've  been  here  before." 

Bartlett's  lowering  countenance  indicated  re- 
sentment at  the  imputation,  but  he  neither 
affirmed  nor  denied.  Yates  strolled  out  of  the 
barn,  while  the  farmer  went  through  a  small 


54 


•ffn  tbe  Itsi^et  of  Blarms. 


doorway  that  led  to  the  stable.  A  moment 
later  he  heard  Hiram  calling  loudly  to  his  son 
to  bring  the  pails  and  water  the  horses. 

"  Evidently  preparing  an  alibi^  said  Yates, 
smiling  to  himself,  as  he  sauntered  toward  the 
gate. 


m 


!   i 

I 


\\y\ 


w:  1 


I 


iJ, 


lent 
son 

ites, 
the 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  What's  up  ?  what's  up  ?  "  cried  Yates 
drowsily  next  morning,  as  a  prolonged  ham- 
mering at  his  door  awakened  him. 

"  Weil,  yoiire  not,  anyhow."  He  recognized 
the  voice  of  young  Hiram.  "  I  say,  breakfast's 
ready.     The  professor  has  been  up  an  hour." 

••  All  right  ;  I'll  be  down  shortly,"  said  Yates, 
yawning,  adding  to  himself:  "  Hang  the  pro- 
fessor !  "  The  sun  was  streaming  in  through 
the  east  window,  but  Yates  never  before  re- 
membered seeing  it  such  a  short  distance  above 
the  horizon  in  the  morning,  He  pulled  his 
watch  from  the  poc'<et  of  his  vest,  hanging  on 
the  bedpost.  It  was  not  yet  seven  o'clock. 
He  placed  it  to  his  ear,  thinking  it  had  stopped, 
but  found  himself  mistaken. 

"What  an  unearthly  hour,"  he  said,  unable 
to  check  the  yawns.  Yates'  years  on  a  morn- 
ing newspaper  had  made  seven  o'clock  some- 
thing like  midnight  to  him.  He  had  been  un- 
able to  sleep  until  after  two  o'clock,  his  usual 
time  of  turning  in,  and  now  this  rude  awaken- 
ing seemed  thoughtless  cruelty.  However,  he 
dressed,  and  yawned  himself  downstairs. 

They  were  all  seated  at  breakfast  when  Yates 
entered  the  apartment,  which  was  at  once  din- 
ing room  and  parlor. 

"  Waiting  for  you,"  said  young  Hiram  humor- 
ously, that  being  one  of  a  set  of  jokes  which 
suited  various  occasions.  Yates  took  his  place 
near  Miss  Kitty,  who  looked  as  fresh  and 
radiant  as  a  spirit  of  the  morning. 

55 


56 


•ffn  tbe  /IRiDet  of  Blarms. 


"  I  hope  I  haven't  kept  you  waiting  long,"  he 
said. 

"  No  fear,"  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett.  "  If  breai<- 
fast's  a  minute  later  than  seven  o'clock,  we  soon 
hear  of  it  from  the  men-folks.  They  get  pre- 
cious hungry  by  that  time." 

"  By  that  time  ?  "  echoed  Yates.  "  Then  do 
they  get  up  before  seven  }  " 

"  Laws  !  what  a  farmer  you  would  make,  Mr. 
Yates ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bartlett,  la  'ghing. 
"  Why,  everything's  done  about  the  house  and 
barn  ;  horses  fed,  cows  milked — everything. 
There  never  was  a  better  motto  made  than  the 
one  you  learned  when  you  were  a  boy,  and  like 
as  not  have  forgotten  all  about : 

•'  '  Early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise 

Makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise.' 


I'm  sorry  you  don't  believe  in  it,  Mr.  Yates." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Yates  with  some 
loftiness ;  "  but  I'd  like  to  see  a  man  get  out  a 
morning  paper  on  such  a  basis.  I'm  healthy 
enough,  quite  as  wealthy  as  the  professor  here, 
and  everyone  will  admit  that  I'm  wiser  than  he 
is;  yet  I  never  go  to  bed  until  after  two  o'clock, 
and  rarely  wake  before  noon." 

Kitty  laughed  at  this,  and  young  Hiram 
looked  admiringly  at  the  New  Yorker,  wishing 
he  was  as  clever. 

"  For  the  land's  sake  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett, 
with  true  feminine  profanity,  "  What  do  you 
do  up  so  late  as  that  ?  " 

"Writing,  writing,"  said  Yates  airily;  "arti- 
cles that  make  dynasties  tremble  next  morning, 
and  which  call  forth  apologies  or  libel  suits 
afterward,  as  the  case  may  be." 

Young  Hiram  had  no  patience  with  one's  pro- 
fession as  a  topic  of  conversation.  The  tent  and 
its  future  position  was  the  burning  question  with 


I 


'A- 

At  ♦ 


•ffn  tbc  flbiOst  of  Blarm0, 


57 


he 


do 


him.  He  muml)led  something  about  Yates  hav- 
ing slept  late  in  order  to  avoid  the  hearing  of  the 
words  of  thankfulness  at  the  beginning  of  the 
meal.  W'^at  his  parents  caught  of  this  remark 
should  have  shown  them  how  evil  communica- 
tions corrupt  good  manners ;  for,  big  as  he  was, 
the  boy  had  never  before  ventured  even  to  hint 
at  ridicule  on  such  a  subject.  He  was  darkly 
frowned  upon  by  his  silent  father,  and  sharply 
reprimanded  by  his  voluble  mother.  Kitty 
apparently  thought  it  rather  funny,  and  would 
like  to  have  laughed.  As  it  was,  she  contented 
herself  with  a  sly  glance  at  Yates,  who,  incredi- 
ble as  it  may  seem,  actually  blushed  at  young 
Hiram's  allusion  to  the  confusing  incident  of  the 
day  before. 

The  professor,  who  was  a  kind-b^.;  ted  man, 
drew  a  herring  across  the  scent. 

"  Mr.  Bartlett  has  been  .lood  enough,"  said 
he,  changing  tiie  subject,'-  to  say  we  may  camp 
in  the  woods  at  the  back  of  the  farm.  I  have 
been  out  there  this  morning,  and  it  certainly 
is  a  lovely  spot." 

"  We're  awfully  obliged,  Mr.  Bartlett,"  said 
Yates.  "  Of  course  Renmark  went  out  there 
merely  to  show  the  difference  between  the  ant 
and  the  butterflv.  You'll  find  out  what  a  hum- 
bug he  is  by  and  by,  Mrs.  Bartlett.  He  looks 
honest ;  but  you  wait." 

"  I  know  just  the  spot  for  the  tent,"  cried 
young  Hiram — "  down  in  the  hollow  by  the 
creek.     Then  you  won't  need  to  haul  water." 

"  Yes,  and  catch  their  deaths  of  fever  and 
ague,"  said  Mrs.  Bartlett.  Malaria  had  not  then 
been  invented.  "  Take  my  advice,  and  put  your 
tent — if  you  ivill  put  it  up  at  all — on  the  highest 
ground  you  can  find.  Hauling  water  won't  hurt 
you." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Bartlett.  It  shall  be 
so,     My  friend   uses  no  water — you  ought  to 


f  n  tbe  Ifbi^et  ot  Blarma. 


V  . 


111 


^1 


1 


■  ! ; 


i 


have  seen  his  bill  at  the  Buffalo  hotel.  I  have  it 
somewhere,  and  am  going  to  pin  it  up  on  the 
outside  of  the  tent  as  a  warning  to  the  youth  of 
this  neighborhood — and  what  water  I  need  I 
can  easily  carry  up  from  the  creek." 

The  professor  did  not  defend  himself,  and 
Mrs.  Bartlett  evidently  took  a  large  discount 
from  all  that  Yates  said.  She  was  a  shrewd 
woman. 

After  breakfast  the  men  went  out  to  the  barn. 
The  horses  were  hitched  to  the  wagon,  which 
still  contained  the  tent  and  fittings.  Young 
Hiram  threw  an  ax  and  a  spade  among  the 
canvas  folds,  mounted  to  his  place,  and  drove 
up  the  lane  leading  to  the  forest,  followed  by 
Yates  and  Renmark  on  foot,  leaving  the  farmer 
in  his  barnyard  with  a  cheery  good-by,  which  he 
did  not  see  fit  to  return. 

First,  a  field  of  wheat ;  next,  an  expanse  of 
waving  hay  that  soon  would  be  ready  for  the 
scythe;  then,  a  pasture  field,  in  which  some  young 
horses  galloped  to  the  fence,  gazing  for  a  moment 
at  the  harnessed  horses,  whinnying  sympathetic- 
ally, off  the  next  with  flying  heels  wildly  flung 
in  the  air,  rejoicing  in  their  own  contrast  of 
liberty,  standing  at  the  farther  corner  and  snort- 
ing defiance  to  all  the  world  ;  last,  the  cool 
shade  of  the  woods  into  which  the  lane  ran, 
losing  its  identity  as  a  wagon  road  in  diverging 
cow  paths.  Young  Hiram  knew  the  locality 
well,  and  drove  direct  to  an  ideal  place  for 
camping.  Yates  was  enchanted.  He  included 
all  that  section  of  the  country  in  a  sweeping 
wave  of  his  hand,  and  burst  forth  : 

*'  '  This  is  the  spot,  the  center  of  the  grove  : 

There  stands  the  oak,  the  monarch  of  the  wood. 
In  such  a  place  as  this,  at  such  an  hour, 
We'll  raise  a  tent  to  w  ard  off  sun  and  shower.' 


Shakespeare  improved," 


fn  tbe  /RiOat  of  Blarma, 


59 


"  I  think  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Renmark. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Couldn't  be  a  better  camp- 
ing ground." 

"Yes;  I  know  that.  I  picked  it  out  two 
hours  ago.  But  you  were  wrong  in  your  quota- 
tion. It  is  not  by  Shakespeare  and  yourself,  as 
you  seem  to  think." 

•'  Isn't  it  ?  Some  other  fellow,  eh  ?  Well,  if 
Shake,  is  satisfied,  I  am.  Do  you  know,  Renny, 
I  calculate  that,  line  for  line,  I've  written  about 
ten  times  as  much  as  Shakespeare.  Do  the 
literati  recognize  that  fact .''  Not  a  bit  of  it. 
This  is  an  ungrateful  world.  Stilly." 

"  It  is,  Dick.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
toward  putting  up  the  tent  ?  " 

"  Everything,  my  boy,  everything.  I  know 
more  about  putting  up  tents  than  you  do  about 
science,  or  whatever  you  teach.  Now,  Hiram, 
my  boy,  you  cut  me  some  stakes  about  two  feet 
long — stout  ones.  Here,  professor,  throw  off 
that  coat  and  7i^gltgS  manner,  and  grasp  this 
spade.     I  want  some  trenches  dug." 

Yates  certainly  made  good  his  words.  He 
understood  the  putting  up  of  tents,  his  experi- 
ence in  the  army  being  not  yet  remote.  Young 
Hiram  gazed  with  growing  admiration  at  Yates' 
deftness  and  evident  knowledge  of  what  he  was 
about,  while  his  contempt  for  the  professor's 
futile  struggle  with  a  spade  entangled  in  tree 
roots  was  hardly  repressed. 

"  Better  give  me  that  spade,"  he  said  at 
length  ;  but  there  was  an  element  of  stubborn- 
ness in  Renmark's  character.     He  struggled  on. 

At  last  the  work  was  completed,  stakes 
driven,  ropes  tightened,  trenches  dug. 

Yates  danced,  and  gave  the  war  whoop  of  the 
country. 

•'  Thus  the  canvas  tent  has  risen, 
All  the  slanting  stakes  are  driven, 
Stakes  of  oak  and  stakes  of  beechwood  : 


""^ 


t  ,  .■ 


■I  ..I 


m 


« 


60  fn  tbe  /Ibfdat  ot  Blarme, 

Mops  his  brow,  the  tired  professor ; 
Grins  with  satisfaction,  Hiram  ; 
Dances  wildly,  the  reporter — 
Calls  aloud  for  gin  and  water. 

Longfellow,  old  man,  Longfellow.  Bet  you 
a  dollar  on  it ! "  And  the  frivolous  Yates 
poked  the  professor  in  the  ribs. 

"  Richard,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  can  stand  only 
a  certain  amount  of  this  sort  of  thing.  I  don't 
wish  to  call  any  man  a  fool,  but  you  act  remark- 
ably like  one." 

"Don't  be  mealy-mouthed,  Renny;  call  a 
spade  a  spade.     By  George  !  young  Hiram  has 

gone  off  and  forgotten  his And  the  ax,  too  ! 

Perhaps  they're  left  for  us.  He's  a  good  fel- 
low, is  young  Hiram.  A  fool.?  Of  course  I'm 
a  fool.  That's  what  I  came  for,  and  that's 
what  I'm  going  to  be  for  the  next  two  weeks. 
'  A  fool — a  fool,  I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest ' — just 
the  spot  for  him.  Who  could  be  wise  here 
after  years  of  brick  and  mortar  ? 

"Where  are  your  eyes,  Renny,"  he  cried, 
"that  you  don't  grow  wild  when  you  look 
around  you  ?  See  the  dappled  sunlight  filtering 
through  the  leaves  ;  listen  to  the  murmur  of  the 
wind  in  the  branches ;  hear  the  trickle  of  the 
brook  down  there ;  notice  the  smooth  bark  of 
the  beech  and  the  rugged  covering  of  the  oak  ; 
smell  the  wholesome  woodland  scents.  Ren- 
mark,  you  have  no  soul,  or  you  could  not  be  so 

unmoved.     It  is  like  paradise.     It  is Say, 

Renny,  by  Jove,  I've  forgotten  that  jug  at  the 
barn  ! " 
"  It  will  be  left  there." 
"  Will  it  ?    Oh,  well,  if  you  say  so." 
"  I  do  say  so.     I  looked  around  for  it  this 
morning  to  smash  it,  but  couldn't  find  it." 
"  Why  didn't  you  ask  old  Bartlett.?" 
"I  did;  but  he  didn't  know  where  it  was." 
Yates  threw  himself  down  on  the  moss  and 


v1 


i 


f  n  tbe  flbi56t  ot  Blarma. 


6i 


-just 
here 


laughed,  flinging  his  arms  and  legs  about  with 
the  joy  of  living. 

'•  Say,  Culture,  have  you  got  any  old  disrep- 
utable clothes  with  you  ?  Well,  then,  go  into 
the  tent  and  put  them  on ;  then  come  out  and 
lie  on  your  back  and  look  up  at  the  leaves. 
You're  a  good  fellow,  Renny,  but  decent  clothes 
spoil  you.  You  won't  know  yourself  when  you 
get  ancient  duds  on  your  back.  Old  clothes 
mean  freedom,  liberty,  all  that  our  ancestors 
fought  for.  When  you  come  out,  we'll  settle 
who's  to  cook  and  who  to  wash  dishes.  I've 
settled  it  already  in  my  own  mind,  but  I  am 
not  so  selfish  as  to  refuse  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  you." 

When  tlie  professor  came  out  of  the  tent, 
Yates  roared.  Renmark  himself  smiled;  he 
knew  the  effect  would  appeal  to  Yates. 

"  By  Jove !  old  man,  I  ought  to  have  included 
a  mirror  in  the  outfit.  The  look  of  learned  re- 
spectability, set  off  with  the  garments  of  a  dis- 
reputable tramp,  makes  a  combination  that  is 
simply  killing.  Well,  you  can't  spoil  that  suit, 
\nyhow.     Now  sprawl." 

"  I'm  very  comfortable  standing  up,  thank 
you." 

"  Get  down  on  your  back.     You  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Put  me  there." 

"  You  mean  it  }  "  asked  Yates,  sitting  up. 

"  Certainly." 

"  Say,  Renny,  beware.  I  don't  want  to  hurt 
you." 

"  I'll  forgive  you  for  once." 

"  On  your  head  be  it." 

"  On  my  back,  you  mean." 

"  That's  not  bad,  Renny,"  cried  Yates, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "  Now,  it  will  hurt.  You 
have  fair  warning.     I  have  spoken." 

The  young  men  took  sparring  attitudes. 
Yates  tried  to  do  it  gently  at  first,  but,  finding 


6fl 


Kit  tbe  ftsi^et  oX  Blaime. 


i'  I 


Is       4 


m 
u 


1: 


he  could  not  toucli  lus  opponent,  struck  out 
more  earnestly,  aj^ain  f^ivinj^^  a  friendly  warning. 
This  went  on  ineffectually  for  some  time,  when 
the  prof(;ss()r,  with  a  (|uirk  movement,  swun^ 
around  ins  foot  with  the  airy  j^raccof  a  dancing 
master,  and  caught  Yates  just  heh-nd  the  knee, 
at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  slight  tap  on  tiie 
breast.     Yates  was  instantly  on  his  hack. 

."  Oh,  I  say,  Renny,  that  wasn't  fair.  Tliat 
was  a  kick." 

"  No,  it  wasn't.  It  is  merely  a  little  French 
touch.  I  learned  it  in  Paris.  They  t^o  kick 
there,  you  know  ;  and  it  is  good  to  know  how 
to  use  your  feet  as  well  as  your  fists  if  you  are 
set  on  by  three,  as  1  was  one  night  in  the  Latin 
Quarter." 

Yates  sat  uj). 

"  Look  here,  Renmark  ;  when  were  you  in 
Paris  ?  " 

"  vSevcral  times." 

Yates  gazed  at  him  for  a  few  moments,  then 
said  : 

*'  Renny,  you  imj)rov2  on  acquaintance.  I 
never  saw  a  IJool-var  in  my  life.  You  must 
teach  me  that  little  kick." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Renmark,  sitting 
down,  while  the  other  sprawled  at  full  length. 
"Teaching  is  my  business,  and  I  shall  be  glad 
to  exercise  any  talents  I  may  have  in  that  line. 
In  endeavoring  to  instruct  a  New  York  man 
the  first  step  is  to  convince  him  that  he  doesn't 
know  everything.  That  is  the  difficult  point. 
Afterward  everything  is  easy." 

"  Mr,  Stillson  Renmark,  you  are  pleased  to 
be  severe.  Know  that  you  are  forgiven.  This 
delicious  sylvan  retreat  does  not  lend  itself  to 
acrimonious  dispute,  or,  in  plain  English,  quar- 
reling. Let  dogs  delight,  if  they  want  to ;  I 
refuse  to  be  goaded  by  your  querulous  nature 
into  giving  anything  but  the  soft  answer.     Now 


fn  tbc  jflftlOst  of  Blarme. 


63 


That 


I 


to  business.  Notliin^^  is  so  conducive  to  friend- 
shij),  when  two  people  are  cani|)ing  out,  as  a 
definition  of  the  duties  of  each  at  the  begin- 
ninjjf.     Do  you  follow  nic?" 

"  I'erfeclly.     What  do  you  propose  ?  " 

"  I  j)roposr  that  you  do  the  cookinp  and  I 
wash  the  dishes.  We  will  forage  for  food 
alternate  days.' 

"  Very  well.     I  agree  to  that." 

Richard  Yates  sat  suddenly  upright,  looking 
at  his  friend  with  rej)n)ach  in  his  eyes.  "See 
here,  Kcmnark;  are  you  resolved  to  force  on 
an  international  complication  the  very  first 
day?     That's  no  fair  show  to  give  a  man." 

"What  isn't?" 

"  Why,  agn.-eing  with  him.  There  are  depths 
of  meanness  in  your  character,  Kenny,  that  I 
never  suspected.  You  know  th.it  people  who 
camp  out  always  object  to  the  part  assigned 
them  by  their  fellow-campers.  I  counted  on 
that.     I'll  do  anything  but  wash  dishes," 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  say  so  ?  " 

"  Because  any  sane  man  would  have  said 
'  no  '  when  I  suggested  cooking,  merely  because 
I  suggestefl  it.  There  is  no  diplomacy  about 
you,  Renmark.  A  man  doesn't  know  where  to 
find  you  when  you  act  like  that.  When  you 
refused  to  do  the  cooking,  I  would  have  said : 
'Very  well,  then,  I'll  do  it,'  and  everything 
would  have  been  lovely  ;  but  now— — " 

Yates  lay  down  again  in  disgust.  There 
are  moments  in  life  when  language  fails  a  man. 

"  Then  it's  settled  that  you  do  the  cooking 
and  I  wash  the  dishes  ?"  said  the  professor. 

*'  Settled  ?  Oh,  yes,  if  you  say  so ;  but  all 
the  pleasure  of  getting  one's  own  way  by  the 
use  of  one's  brains  is  gone.  I  hate  to  be 
agreed  with  in  that  objectionably  civil  manner." 

"  Well,  that  point  being  arranged,  who  bv^ins 
the  foraging — you  or  I  ?  " 


m 


t 


64 


f  n  the  !Ksitf6t  of  Blarma. 


"Both,  Herr  Professor,  both.  I  propose  to 
go  to  the  house  of  the  Howards,  and  I  need  an 
excuse  for  the  first  visit ;  therefore  I  shall  for- 
age to  a  limited  extent.  I  go  ostensibly  for 
bread.  As  I  may  not  get  any,  you  perhaps 
should  bring  some  from  whatever  farmhouse 
you  choose  as  the  scene  of  your  operations, 
Bread  is  always  handy  in  the  camp,  fresh  or 
stale.  When  in  doubt,  buy  more  bread.  You 
can  never  go  wrong,  and  the  bread  won't." 

••  What  else  should  I  get  ?    Milk,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  eggs,  butter — anything.  Mrs. 
Bartlett  will  give  you  hints  on  what  to  get  that 
will  be  more  valuable  than  mine." 

"  Have  you  all  the  cooking  utensils  you 
need?" 

"  I  think  so.  The  villain  from  whom  I  hired 
the  outfit  said  it  was  complete.  Doubtless  he 
lied  ;  but  we'll  manage,  I  think." 

"  Very  well.  If  you  wait  until  I  change  my 
clothes,  I'll  go  with  you  as  far  as  the  road." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  be  advised,  and  don't  change. 
You'll  get  everything  twenty  per  cent,  cheaper  in 
that  rig-out.  Besides,  you  are  so  much  more 
picturesque.  Your  costume  may  save  us  from 
starvation  if  we  run  short  of  cash.  You  can  get 
enough  for  both  of  us  as  a  professional  tramp. 
Oh,  well,  if  you  insist,  I'll  wait.  Good  advice 
is  thrown  away  on  a  man  like  you." 


:Ti 


CHAPTER   VI. 


Margaret  Howard  stood  at  the  kitchen 
table  kneading  dough.  The  room  was  called 
the  kitchen,  which  it  was  not,  except  in  winter. 
The  stove  was  moved  out  in  spring  to  a  lean-to, 
easily  reached  through  the  open  door  leading 
to  the  kitchen  veranda. 

When  the  stove  went  out  or  came  in,  it 
marked  the  approach  or  the  departure  of 
summer.  It  was  the  heavy  pendulum  whose 
swing  this  way  or  that  indicated  the  two  great 
changes  of  the  year.  No  job  about  the  farm 
was  so  much  disliked  by  the  farmer  and  his 
boys  as  the  semiannual  removal  of  the  stove. 
Soot  came  down,  stovepipes  gratingly  grudged 
to  go  together  again  ;  the  stove  was  heavy  and 
cumbersome,  and  many  a  pain  in  a  rural  back 
dated  from  the  journey  of  the  stove  from  out- 
house to  kitchen. 

The  kitchen  itself  was  a  one-story  building, 
which  projected  back  from  the  two-story  farm- 
house, giving  the  whole  a  T-shape.  There  was 
a  veranda  on  each  side  of  the  kitchen,  as  well 
as  one  along  the  front  of  the  house  itself. 

Margaret's  sleeves  were  turned  back  nearly 
to  her  elbows,  showing  a  pair  of  white  and 
shapely  a/ms.  Now  and  then  she  deftly  dusted 
the  kneading  board  with  flour  to  prevent  the 
dough  sticking,  and  as  she  pressed  her  open 
palms  into  the  smooth,  white,  spongy  mass, 
the  table  groaned  protestingly.  She  cut  the 
roll  with  a  knife  into  lumps  that  were  patted 

65 


If*'  .• 


I'.  I' 


^.  \ 


w   ' 
"    I 


i 


i 


I 


Y^  i 


I'i' 


'! ,  '■ 


66 


•ffn  tbe  .flBlO0t  of  Blarma. 


into  shape,  and  placed  side  by  side,  like  hillocks 
of  snow,  in  the  sheet-iron  pan. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  rap  at  the  open 
kitchen  door,  and  Margaret  turned  round, 
startled,  for  visitors  were  rare  at  tiiat  hour  of 
the  day ;  besides,  neighbors  seldom  made  such 
a  concession  to  formality  as  to  knock.  The 
young  girl  flushed  as  she  recognized  the  man 
who  had  spoken  to  her  the  day  before.  He 
stood  smiling  in  the  doorway,  with  his  hat  in 
his  hand.  She  uttered  no  word  of  greeting  or 
welcome,  but  stood  looking  at  him,  with  her 
hand  on  the  floury  table. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Howard,"  said  Yates 
blithely  ;  "  may  I  come  in  ?  I  have  been  knock- 
ing for  some  time  fruitlessly  at  the  front  door, 
so  I  took  the  liberty  of  coming  around." 

"  I  did  not  hear  you  knock,"  answered  Mar- 
garet. She  neglected  to  invite  him  in,  but  he 
took  the  permission  for  granted  and  entered, 
seating  himself  as  one  who  had  come  to  stay. 
"You  must  excuse  me  for  going  on  with  my 
work,"  she  added  ;  "  bread  at  this  stage  will 
not  wait." 

"  Certainly,  certainly.  Please  do  not  let  me 
interrupt  you.  I  have  made  my  own  bread  for 
years,  but  not  in  that  way.  I  am  glad  that  you 
are  making  bread,  for  I  have  come  to  see  if  I 
can  buy  some." 

"  Really  ?  Perhaps  I  can  sell  you  some 
butter  and  eggs  as  well." 

Yates  laughed  in  that  joyous,  free-hearted 
manner  of  his  which  had  much  to  do  with  his 
getting  on  in  the  world.  It  was  difficult  to  re- 
main long  angry  with  so  buoyant  a  nature. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Howard,  I  see  you  haven't  for- 
given me  for  that   remark.     You  surely  could 

"  meant  it.     ~ 


igh 


really 


it  for  a  joke,  but  I  am  willing  to  admit,  now 
that  I  look  back  on  it,  that  the  joke  was  rather 


f  n  the  flbiOst  of  Blarm0. 


67 


you 
if  I 


poor;  but,  then,  most  of  my  jokes  are  rather 
shopworn." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  lack  a  sense  of  humor." 

"  All  women  do,"  said  Yates  with  easy  con- 
fidence.    "  At  least,  all  I've  ever  met." 

Yates  was  sitting  in  a  wooden  chair,  which 
he  now  placed  at  the  end  of  the  table,  tilting  it 
back  until  his  shoulders  rested  against  the  wall. 
His  feet  were  upon  the  rung,  and  he  waved  his 
hat  back  and  forth,  fanning  himself,  for  it  was 
warm.  In  this  position  he  could  look  up  at  the 
face  of  the  pretty  girl  before  him,  whose  smooth 
brow  was  touched  with  just  the  slightest  indi- 
cation of  a  faint  frown.  She  did  not  even 
glance  at  the  self-confident  young  man,  but 
kept  her  eyes  fixed  resolutely  on  her  work.  In 
the  silence  the  table  creaked  as  Margaret 
kneaded  the  dough.  Yates  felt  an  unaccus- 
tomed sensation  of  embarrassment  creeping 
over  him,  and  realized  that  he  would  have  to 
re-erect  the  conversation  on  a  new  basis.  It 
was  manifestly  absurd  that  a  resourceful  New 
Yorker,  who  had  conversed  unabashed  with 
presidents,  senators,  generals,  and  other  great 
people  of  a  great  nation,  should  be  put  out  of 
countenance  by  the  unaccountable  coldness  of  a 
country  girl  in  the  wilds  of  Canada. 

•'  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of  properly  in- 
troducing myself,"  he  said  at  last,  when  the 
creaking  of  the  table,  slight  as  it  was,  became  in- 
supportable. "  My  name  is  Richard  Yates,  and 
I  come  from  New  York.  I  am  camping  out  in 
this  neighborhood  to  relieve,  as  it  were,  a  mental 
strain — the  result  of  years  of  literary  work." 

Yates  knew  from  long  experience  that  the 
quickest  and  surest  road  to  a  woman's  confi- 
dence was  through  her  sympathy.  "  Mental 
strain  "  struck  him  as  a  good  phrase,  indicating 
midnight  oil  and  the  hollow  eye  of  the  devoted 
student. 


68 


fn  tbe  /ftiJ>0t  of  Blarmd. 


&  '1 


I.  ' 


■I 


"Is  your  work  irKMifal,  then?"  asked  Mar- 
^r'.irfX  incredulously,  Hashing,  for  liic  first  time,  a 
(lark-eyed  look  at  liini. 

"  Yes,"  Yales  laughed  uneasily.  He  had 
inanif(.'stly  tnissfd  (Ire.  "  I  notice  by  your  lone 
that  you  evifhMitly  think  my  c<iui|)ment  meager. 
You  should  not  judge  by  appearances,  Miss 
Howard.  Most  of  us  are  i)etter  than  we  seem, 
pessimists  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
Well,  as  I  was  saying,  the  ramping  company 
consists  of  two  |)artners.  We  arc;  so  different 
in  every  respect  that  we  are  the  best  of  frienrls. 
My  partner  is  Mr.  Stillson  Renmark,  ))rofessor 
of  something  or  other  in  University  College, 
Toronto." 

Kor  the  first  time  Margaret  exhibited  some 
interest  in  the  conversation. 

"  l*rofessor  Renmark  ?  I  have  heard  of 
him." 

"  Dear  me!  I  had  no  idea  the  fame  of  the 
l)rofessor  had  penetrated  beyond  the  precincts 
of  the  university — if  a  university  has  precincts. 
He  told  me  it  had  all  the  nuulern  improvements, 
!)ut  I  susi)ected  at  the  time  that  was  merely 
Kenny's  brag." 

The  frown  on  the  girl's  brow  deepened,  and 
Yates  was  cpiick  to  see  that  he  had  lost  ground 
again,  if,  indeed,  he  had  ever  gained  any,  which 
he  began  to  doubt.  She  evidently  did  not 
relish  liis  glib  talk  about  the  university.  He 
was  just  about  to  say  something  deferentially 
about  that  institution,  for  he  was  not  a  man 
who  would  speak  disrespectfully  of  the  equator 
if  he  thought  he  might  curry  favor  with  his 
auditor  by  doing  otherwise,  when  it  occurred  to 
him  that  Miss  Howard's  interest  was  centered 
in  the  man,  and  not  in  the  university. 

"  In  this  world,  Miss  Howard,"  he  continued, 
"  true  merit  rarely  finds  its  reward  ;  at  least, 
the  reward  shows  some  reluctance  in  making 


f  n  tbc  Mt>6t  of  Blarma. 


Co 


of 


itself  visible  in  time  for  a  rnnn  to  enjoy  it.  Pro- 
fessor Kenrnark  is  a  iiiaii  so  worthy  tli;it  I  was 
rather  astonisherl  to  learn  that  you  knew  of 
him.  I  am  glarl  for  his  sake  that  it  is  so,  for 
no  n)an  more  thorou;^hly  tleserves  fame  than 
he." 

•'  I  know  nothin^j  of  liim,"  saifl  Marj(aret, 
"except  what  my  brcjther  h?js  written.  My 
brother  is  a  student  at  the  university." 

"  Is  he  really  ?  And  what  is  he  going  in 
for  ?  " 

"  A  good  education." 

Yat('S  laughed. 

"  Well,  that  is  an  all-round  handy  tiling  for  a 
person  to  have  .'djfjut  him.  I  ofteri  wish  I  had 
nad  a  uuiv(;rsity  training.  .Still,  it  is  not  valued 
in  an  American  newspaper  f>ffice  as  much  as 
might  be.  Yet,"  he  added  in  a  tone  that 
showed  he  did  not  desire  to  be  unfair  to  a  man 
of  education,  "  I  have  known  some  university 
men  who  became  i)assably  good  rej)orters  in 
time." 

The  girl  made  no  answer,  but  attenrled 
strictly  to  the  work  in  hand.  She  had  the  rare 
gift  of  silence,  anrl  these  intervals  of  quiet 
abashed  Yates,  whose  most  frequent  boast  was 
that  he  could  outtalk  any  man  on  earth. 
Opposition,  or  even  abuse,  merely  served  as  a 
spur  to  his  volubility,  but  taciturnity  discon- 
certed him. 

"  Well,"  he  cried  at  length,  with  something 
hke  desperation,  "  let  us  abandon  this  animated 
discussion  on  the  subject  of  education,  and  take 
up  the  more  practical  topic  of  bread.  Would 
you  believe.  Miss  Howard,  that  I  am  an  expert 
in  bread  making  .'*  " 

"  I  think  you  said  already  that  you  made 
your  bread." 

'*  Ah,  yes,  but  I  meant  then  that  I  made  it  by 
the  sweat  of  my  good  lead  i)encil.     Still,  I  have 


1 


w. 


I)i 


p 


I. 


70 


f  n  tbe  A^iddt  of  Blarms. 


made  bread  in  my  time,  and  I  believe  that  some 
of  tiiose  who  subsisted  upon  it  are  alive  to-day. 
The  endurance  of  the  human  frame  is  some- 
thing marvelous,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it. 
I  did  the  baking  in  a  lumber  camp  one  winter. 
Used  to  dump  the  contents  of  a  sack  of  flour 
into  a  trough  made  out  of  a  log,  pour  in  a  pail 
or  two  of  melted  snow,  and  mix  with  a  hoe 
after  the  manner  of  a  bricklayer's  assistant 
making  mortar.  There  was  nothing  small  or 
mean  about  my  bread  making.  I  was  in  the 
wholesale  trade." 

"  I  pity  the  unfortunate  lumbermen." 
"  Your  sympathy  is  entirely  misplaced,  Miss 
Howard.  You  ought  to  pity  me  for  having  to 
pander  to  such  appetites  as  those  men  brought 
in  from  the  woods  with  them.  They  never 
complained  of  the  quality  of  the  bread,  although 
there  was  occasionally  some  grumbling  about 
the  quantity.  I  have  fed  sheaves  to  a  thresh- 
ing machine  and  logs  to  a  sawmill,  but  their 
voracity  was  nothing  to  that  of  a  big  lumber- 
man just  in  from  felling  trees.  Enough,  and 
plenty  of  it,  is  what  he  wants.  No  •  tabbledote  ' 
for  him.  He  wants  it  all  at  once,  and  he  wants 
it  right  away.  If  there  is  any  washing  neces- 
sary, he  is  content  to  do  it  after  the  meal.  I 
know  nothing,  except  a  morning  paper,  that  has 
such  an  appetite  for  miscellaneous  stuff  as  the 
man  of  the  woods." 

The  girl  made  no  remark,  but  Yates  could 
see  that  she  was  interested  in  his  talk  in  spite 
of  herself.  The  bread  was  now  in  the  pans, 
and  she  had  drawn  out  the  table  to  the  middle 
of  the  floor  ;  the  baking  board  had  disappeared, 
and  the  surface  of  the  table  was  cleaned.  With 
a  light,  deft  motion  of  her  two  hands  she  had 
whisked  over  its  surface  the  spotlessly  white 
cloth,  which  flowed  in  waves  over  the  table  and 
finally  settled  calmly  in  its  place  like  the  placid 


fn  tbe  Hsi^et  ot  Blatme. 


71 


face  of  a  pond  in  the  moonlight.  Yates  realized 
that  the  way  to  success  lay  in  keeping  the  con- 
versation in  his  own  hands  and  not  depending 
on  any  response.  In  this  way  a  man  may  best 
display  the  store  of  knowledge  he  possesses,  to 
the  admiration  and  bewilderment  of  his  audi- 
ence, even  though  his  store  consists  merely  of 
samples  like  the  outfit  of  a  commercial  traveler  ; 
yet  a  commercial  traveler  who  knows  his  busi- 
ness can  so  arrange  his  samples  on  the  table  of 
his  room  in  a  hotel  that  they  give  the  onlooker 
an  idea  of  the  vastness  and  wealth  of  the  ware- 
houses from  which  they  are  drawn. 

**  Bread,"  said  Yates  with  the  serious  air  of 
a  very  learned  man,  "  is  a  most  interesting  sub- 
ject. It  is  a  historical  subject — it  is  a  biblical 
subject.  As  an  article  of  food  it  is  mentioned 
oftener  in  the  Bible  than  any  other.  It  is  used 
in  paral)le  and  to  point  a  moral.  '  Ye  must  not 
live  on  bread  alone.'  " 

From  the  suspicion  of  a  twinkle  in  the  eye 
of  his  listener  he  feared  he  had  not  quoted 
correctly.  He  knew  he  was  not  now  among 
tliat  portion  of  his  samples  with  which  he  was 
most  familiar,  so  he  hastened  back  to  the 
historical  aspect  of  his  subject.  Few  people 
could  skate  over  thinner  ice  than  Richard 
Yates,  but  his  natural  shrewdness  always 
caused   him   to   return   to   more  solid  footing. 

"  Now,  in  this  country  bread  has  gone 
through  three  distinct  stages,  and  although  I 
am  a  strong  believer  in  progress,  yet,  in  the 
case  of  our  most  important  article  of  food,  I 
hold  that  the  bread  of  to-day  is  inferior  to  the 
bread  our  m^tners  used  to  make,  or  perhaps,  I 
should  say,  our  grandmothers.  This  is,  un- 
fortunately, rapidly  becoming  the  age  of 
machinery — and  machinery,  while  it  may  be 
quicker,  is  certainly  not  so  thorough  as  old- 
fashioned  hand  work.     There  is  a  new  writer 


r 

I 
I  i 


H 


ii '  I 


i\ 


1% 


Ifn  tbe  /iftfDst  ot  Blarms. 


in  England  named  Ruskin  who  is  very  bitter 
against  machinery.  He  would  like  to  see  it 
abolished — at  least,  so  he  says.  I  will  send  for 
one  of  his  books,  and  show  it  to  you,  if  you  will 
let  me." 

"  You,  in  New  York,  surely  do  not  call  the 
author  of  '  Modern  Painters  '  and  *  The  Seven 
Lamps  of  Architecture  '  a  new  man.  My  father 
has  one  of  his  books  which  must  be  nearly 
twenty  years  old." 

This  was  the  longest  speech  Margaret  had 
made  to  him,  and,  as  he  said  afterward  to  the 
professor  in  descrii)ing  its  effects,  it  took  him 
right  off  his  feet.  He  admitted  to  the  professor, 
but  not  to  the  girl,  that  he  had  never  read  a 
word  of  Ruskin  in  his  life.  The  allusion  he 
had  made  to  him  he  had  heard  someone  else 
use,  and  he  had  worked  it  into  an  article  before 
now  with  telling  effect.  "  As  Mr.  Ruskin  says  " 
looked  well  in  a  newspaper  column,  giving  an 
air  of  erudition  and  research  to  it.  Mr.  Yates, 
however,  was  not  at  the  present  moment  pre- 
pared to  enter  into  a  discussion  on  either  the 
age  or  the  merits  of  the  English  writer. 

"  Ah,  well,"  he  said,  "  technically  speaking, 
of  course,  Ruskin  is  not  a  new  man.  What  I 
meant  was  that  he  is  looked  on — ah — in  New 
York  as — that  is — you  know — as  comparatively 
new— comparatively  new.  But,  as  I  was  saying 
about  bread,  the  old  log  Iiouse  era  of  bread,  as 
I  might  call  it,  producec'  the  most  delicious  loaf 
ever  made  in  this  country.  It  was  the  salt- 
rising  kind,  and  was  baked  in  a  round,  flat- 
bottomed  iron  kettle.  Did  you  ever  see  the 
baking  kettle  of  other  days  ?  " 

"  I  think  Mrs.  Bartlett  has  one,  although  she 
never  uses  it  now.  It  was  placed  on  the  hot 
embers,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"  Exactly,"  said  Yates,  noting  with  pleasure 
that  the  girl  was  thawing,  as  he  expressed  it  to 


IFn  tbc  /RiDet  ot  Blarms. 


73 


■  ij 


y 


himself.  "  The  hot  coals  were  drawn  out  and  the 
kettle  placed  upon  them.  When  the  lid  was  in 
position,  hot  coals  were  put  on  the  top  of  it. 
The  bread  was  firm  and  white  and  sweet  inside, 
with  the  most  delicious  golden  brown  crust  all 
around.  Ah,  that  was  bread  !  but  perhaps  I 
appreciated  it  because  I  was  always  hungry  in 
those  days.  Then  came  the  alleged  improve- 
ment of  the  tin  Dutch  oven.  That  was  the 
second  stage  in  the  evolution  of  bread  in  this 
country.  It  also  belonged  to  the  log-house  and 
open-fireplace  era.  Bread  baked  by  direct  heat 
from  the  fire  and  reflected  heat  from  the  polished 
tin.  I  think  our  present  cast-iron  stove  arrange- 
ment is  preferable  to  that,  although  not  up  to 
the  old-time  kettle." 

If  Margaret  had  been  a  reader  of  the  New 
York  Argus,  she  would  have  noticed  that  the 
facts  set  forth  by  her  visitor  had  already  ap- 
peared in  that  paper,  much  elaborated,  in  an 
article  entitled  "  Our  Daily  Bread."  In  the 
pause  that  ensued  after  Yates  had  finished  his 
dissertation  on  the  staff  of  life  the  stillness  was 
broken  by  a  long  wailing  cry.  It  began  with 
one  continued,  sustained  note,  and  ended  with 
a  wail  half  a  tone  below  the  first.  The  girl 
paid  no  attention  to  it,  but  Yates  started  to  his 
feet. 

"  In  the  name  of What's  that  }  " 

Margaret  smiled,  but  before  she  could  an- 
swer the  stillness  was  again  broken  by  what 
appeared  to  be  the  more  distant  notes  of  a 
bugle. 

"  The  first,"  she  said,  "  was  Kitty  Bartlett's 
voice  calling  the  men  home  from  the  field  for 
dinner.  Mrs.  Bartlett  is  a  very  good  house- 
keeper, and  is  usually  a  few  minutes  ahead  of 
the  neighbors  with  the  meals.  The  second  was 
the  sound  of  a  horn  farther  up  the  road.  It  is 
what  you  would  deplore  as  the  age  of  tin  ap- 


'  (\ 


\i: 


IfJ 


74 


•ffn  tbe  ItsitiBt  ot  Blarms. 


i    t: 


II 


I; 


plied  to  the  dinner  call,  just  as  your  tin  oven 
supplanted  the  better  bread  maker.  I  like 
Kitty's  call  much  better  than  the  tin  horn.  It 
seems  to  me  more  musical,  although  it  ap- 
peared to  startle  you." 

"  Oh,  you  can  talk ! "  cried  Yates  with 
audacious  admiration,  at  which  the  girl  colored 
slightly  and  seemed  to  retire  within  herself 
again.  "  And  you  can  make  fun  of  people's 
historical  lore,  too.  Which  do  you  use — the  tin 
horn  or  the  natural  voice  ?  " 

"  Neither.  If  you  will  look  outside,  you  will 
see  a  flag  at  the  top  of  a  pole.  That  is  our 
signal." 

It  flashed  across  the  mind  of  Yates  that  this 
was  intended  as  an  intimation  that  he  might  see 
many  things  outside  to  interest  iiim.  He  felt 
that  his  visit  had  not  been  at  all  the  brilliant 
success  he  had  anticipated.  Of  course  the 
quest  for  bread  had  been  merely  an  excuse. 
He  had  expected  to  be  able  to  efface  the  un- 
favorable impression  he  knew  he  had  made  by 
his  jaunty  conversation  on  the  Ridge  Road  the 
Jay  before,  and  he  realized  that  his  position 
was  still  the  same.  A  good  deal  of  Yates'  suc- 
cess in  life  came  from  the  fact  that  he  never 
knew  when  he  was  beaten.  He  did  not  admit 
defeat  now,  but  he  saw  he  had,  for  some  reason, 
not  gained  any  advantage  in  a  preliminary 
skirmish.  He  concluded  it  would  be  well  to  re- 
tire in  good  order,  and  renew  the  contest  at 
some  future  time.  He  was  so  unused  to  any- 
thing like  a  rebuff  that  all  his  fighting  qualities 
were  up  in  arms,  and  he  resolved  to  show  this 
unimpressionable  girl  that  he  was  not  a  man  to 
be  lightly  valued. 

As  he  rose  the  door  from  the  main  portion 
of  the  house  opened,  and  there  entered  a 
woman  hardly  yet  past  middle  age,  who  had 
once    been    undoubtedly    handsome,   but    on 


il 


f  n  tbc  /Rf&0t  of  BIarm6. 


75 


to 

ion 
a 
lad 
on 


whose  worn  and  faded  face  was  the  look  of 
patient  weariness  which  so  often  is  the  result  of 
a  youth  spent  in  helping  a  husband  to  over- 
come the  stumpy  stubbornness  of  an  American 
bush  farm.  When  the  farm  is  conquered,  the 
victor  is  usually  vanquished.  It  needed  no 
second  glance  to  see  that  she  was  tiie  mother 
from  whom  tiie  daughter  had  inherited  her  good 
looks.  Mrs.  Howard  did  not  appear  surprised 
to  see  a  stranger  standing  there ;  in  fact,  the 
faculty  of  being  surprised  at  anything  seemed 
to  have  left  her,  Margaret  introduced  them 
quietly,  and  went  about  her  preparation  for  the 
meal.  Yates  greeted  Mrs.  Howard  with  effu- 
sion. He  had  come,  he  said,  on  a  bread  mis- 
sion. He  thought  he  knew  something  about 
bread,  but  he  now  learned  he  came  too  early  in 
the  day.  He  hoped  he  might  have  the  privi- 
lege of  repeating  his  visit. 

"  But  you  are  not  going  now  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Howard  with  hospitable  anxiety, 

"  I  fear  I  have  already  stayed  too  long," 
answered  Yates  lingeringly.  "  My  partner, 
Professor  Renmark,  is  also  on  a  foraging  ex- 
pedition at  your  neighbors',  the  Bartletts.  He 
is  doubtless  back  in  camp  long  ago,  and  will 
be  expecting  me." 

"  No  fear  of  that.  Mrs.  Bartlett  would  never 
let  anyone  go  when  there  is  a  meal  on  the  way." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  giving  extra  trouble 
by  staying.  I  imagine  there  is  quite  enough  to 
do  in  every  farmhouse  without  entertaining 
any  chance  tramp  who  happens  along.  Don't 
you  agree  with  me  for  once,  Miss  Howard  ?  " 

Yates  was  reluctant  to  go,  and  yet  he  did  not 
wish  to  stay  unless  Margaret  added  her  invita- 
tion to  her  mother's.  He  felt  vaguely  that  his 
reluctance  did  him  credit,  and  that  he  was 
improving.  He  could  not  remember  a  time 
when  he  had  not  taken  without  question  what- 


T 


76 


ITn  tbe  ^fOet  ot  Blarme, 


's 


'I    '1 


'^il 


i"   1 


i  i 


ever  the  gods  sent,  and  this  unaccustomed 
qualm  of  modesty  caused  him  to  suspect  that 
there  were  depths  in  his  nature  hitherto  unex- 
plored. It  always  flatters  a  man  to  realize 
that  he  is  deeper  than  he  thought. 

Mrs.  Howard  laughed  in  a  subdued  manner 
because  Yates  likened  himself  to  a  tramp,  and 
Margaret  said  coldly  : 

"  Mother's  motto  is  that  one  more  or  less 
never  makes  any  difference." 

"  And  what  is  your  i->^'>tto,  Miss  Howard  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  Margaret  has  any,"  said  Mrs. 
Howard,  answering  for  her  daughter.  "  She  is 
like  her  father.  She  reads  a  great  deal  and 
doesn't  talk  much.  He  would  read  all  the 
time,  if  he  did  not  have  to  work.  I  see  Margaret 
has  already  invited  you,  for  she  has  put  an 
extra  plate  on  the  table." 

"  Ah,  then,"  said  Yates,  "  I  shall  have  much 
pleasure  in  accepting  both  the  verbal  and  the 
crockery  invitation.  I  am  sorry  for  the  pro- 
fessor at  his  lonely  meal  by  the  tent ;  for  he 
is  a  martyr  to  duty,  and  I  feel  sure  Mrs. 
Bartlett  will  not  be  able  to  keep  him," 

Before  Mrs.  Howard  could  reply  there 
floated  in  to  them  from  the  outside,  where 
Margaret  was,  a  cheery  voice  which  Yates  had 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  as  belonging  to 
Miss  Kitty  Bartlett. 

"  Hello,  Margaret! "she  said.     "Is he  here.?" 

The  reply  was  inaudible. 

"  Oh,  you  know  whom  I  mean.  That  con- 
ceited city  fellow." 

There  was  evidently  an  admonition  and  a 
warning. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  if  he  does.  I'll  tell  him 
so  to  his  face.     It  might  do  him  good." 

Next  moment  there  appeared  a  pretty  vision 
in  the  doorway.  On  the  fair  curls,  which  were 
flying  about  her  shoulders,  had  been  carelessly 


f  n  tbc  /RiDat  of  Blarma. 


77 


placed  her  brother's  straw  hat,  with  a  broad 
and  torn  brim.  Her  face  was  flushed  with 
running;  and  of  the  fact  that  she  was  a  very 
lovely  girl  there  was  not  the  slightest  doubt. 

"  How  de  do  ?  "  she  said  to  Mrs.  Howard, 
and,  nodding  to  Yates,  cried  :  "  I  knew  you  were 
here,  but  I  came  over  to  make  sure.  There's 
going  to  be  war  in  our  house.  Mother's  made 
a  prisoner  of  the  professor  already,  but  he 
doesn't  know  it.  He  thinks  he's  going  back  to 
the  tent,  and  she's  packing  up  the  things  he 
wanted,  and  doing  it  awfully  slow,  till  I  get 
back.  He  said  you  would  be  sure  to  be  wait- 
ing for  him  out  in  the  woods.  We  both  told 
him  there  was  no  fear  of  that.  You  wouldn't 
leave  a  place  where  there  was  good  cooking  for 
all  the  professors  in  the  world." 

"  You  are  a  wonderful  judge  of  character, 
Miss  Bartlett,"  said  Yates,  somewhat  piqued  by 
her  frankness. 

"  Of  course  I  am.  The  professor  knows 
ever  so  much  more  than  you,  but  he  doesn't 
know  when  he's  well  off,  just  the  same.  You 
do.     He's  a  quiet,  stubborn  man." 

"  And  which  do  you  admire  the  most,  Miss 
Bartlett — a  quiet,  stubborn  man,  or  one  who  is 
conceited  ?  " 

Miss  Kitty  laughed  heartily,  without  the 
slightest  trace  of  embarrassment.  "  Detest, 
you  mean,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Margaret, 
which  is  the  most  objectionable  }  " 

Margaret  looked  reproachfully  at  her  neigh- 
bor on  being  thus  suddenly  questioned,  but 
said  nothing. 

Kitty,  laughing  again,  sprang  toward  her 
friend,  dabbed  a  little  kiss,  like  the  peck  of  a 
bird,  on  each  cheek,  cried  :  "  Well,  1  must  be 
off,  or  mother  will  have  to  tie  up  the  professor 
to  keep  him,"  and  was  off  accordingly  with  the 
speed  and  lightness  of  a  young  fawn. 


h 


[.  I 


78 


Hn  tbc  /ibfOst  ot  Blarma. 


'Il 


i 


!! 


"  Extraordinary  girl,"  remarked  Yates,  as  the 
flutter  of  curls  and  calico  dress  disappeared, 

"  She  is  a  [,ood  girl,"  cried  Margaret  emphat- 
ically. 

"  Bless  me,  I  said  nothing  to  the  contrary. 
But  don't  you  think  she  is  somewhat  free  with 
her  opinions  about  other  people  ? "  asked 
Yates. 

"  She  did  not  know  that  you  were  within 
hearing  when  she  first  spoke,  and  after  that  she 
brazened  it  out.  That's  her  way.  But  she's 
a  kind  girl  and  good-hearted,  otherwise  she 
would  not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  come  over 
here  merely  because  your  friend  happened  to 
be  surly." 

"  Oh,  Renny  is  anything  but  surly,"  said 
Yates,  as  quick  to  defend  his  friend  as  she  was 
to  stand  up  for  hers.  "  As  I  was  saying  a 
moment  ago,  he  is  a  martyr  to  duty,  and  if  he 
thought  1  was  at  the  camp,  nothing  would 
keep  him.  Now  he  will  have  a  good  dinner  in 
peace  when  he  knows  I  am  not  waiting  for  him, 
and  a  good  dinner  is  more  than  he  will  get 
when  I  take  to  the  cooking." 

By  this  time  the  silent  signal  on  the  flagpole 
had  done  its  work,  and  Margaret's  father  and 
brother  arrived  from  the  field.  They  put  their 
broad  straw  hats  on  the  roof  of  the  kitchen 
veranda,  and,  taking  water  in  a  tin  basin  from 
the  rain  barrel,  placed  it  on  a  bench  outside 
and  proceeded  to  wash  vigorously. 

Mr.  Howard  was  much  more  interested  in 
his  guest  than  his  daughter  had  apparently 
been.  Yates  talked  glibly,  as  he  could  always 
do  if  he  had  a  sympathetic  audience,  and  he 
showed  an  easy  familiarity  with  the  great 
people  of  this  earth  that  was  fascinating  to  a 
man  who  had  read  much  of  them,  but  who  was, 
in  a  measure,  locked  out  of  the  bustling  world. 
Yates  knew  many  of  the  generals  in  the  late 


F  f 


i^f 


f  n  tbe  /BbiDst  ot  Blacme. 


79 


war,  and  all  of  the  politicians.  Of  the  latter 
there  was  not  an  honest  man  among  them, 
according  to  the  reporter;  of  the  former  there 
were  few  who  had  not  made  the  most  ghastly 
mistakes.  H^  looked  on  the  world  as  a  vast 
hoard  of  com.  onpiace  people,  wherein  the  men 
of  real  genius  were  buried  out  of  sight,  if  there 
were  any  men  of  genius,  which  he  seemed  to 
doubt,  and  those  on  the  top  were  there  either 
through  their  own  intrigues  or  because  they 
had  been  forced  up  by  circumstances.  His 
opinions  sometimes  caused  a  look  of  pain  to 
cross  the  face  of  the  older  man,  who  was  en- 
thusiastic in  his  quiet  way,  and  had  his  heroes. 
He  would  have  been  a  strong  Republican  if  he 
had  lived  in  the  States ;  and  he  had  watched 
the  four-years'  struggle,  through  the  papers, 
with  keen  and  absorbed  interest.  The  North 
had  been  fighting,  in  his  opinion,  for  the  great 
and  undying  principle  of  human  liberty,  and 
had  deservedly  won.  Yates  had  no  such  delu- 
sion. It  was  a  politicians'  war,  he  said. 
Principle  wasn't  in  it.  The  North  would  have 
been  quite  willing  to  let  slavery  stand  if  the 
situation  had  not  been  forced  by  the  firing  on 
Fort  Sumter.  Then  the  conduct  of  the  war 
did  not  at  all  meet  the  approval  of  Mr.  Yates. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose  Grant  will  go 
down  into  history  as  a  great  general.  The 
truth  is  that  he  simply  knew  how  to  subtract. 
That  is  all  there  is  in  it.  He  had  the  ad('.itional 
boon  of  an  utter  lack  of  imagination.  We  had 
many  generals  who  were  greater  than  Grant, 
but  they  were  troubled  with  imaginations. 
Imagination  will  ruin  the  best  general  in  the 
world.  Now,  take  yourself,  for  example.  If 
you  were  to  kill  a  man  unintentionally,  your 
conscience  would  trouble  you  all  the  rest  of 
your  life.  Think  how  you  would  feel,  then,  if 
you  were  to  cause  the  death  of  ten  thousand 


8o 


•ffn  tbe  /IR(D0t  ot  Blarms. 


'*  ) 


•i 


men  all  in  a  lump.  It  would  break  you  down. 
The  mistake  an  ordinary  man  makes  may  re- 
sult in  the  loss  of  a  few  dollars,  which  can  be 
replaced  ;  but  if  a  general  makes  a  mistake,  the 
loss  can  never  be  made  up,  for  his  mistakes  are 
estimated  by  the  lives  of  mer,.  He  says  *  Go  ' 
when  he  should  have  said  '  Come.'  He  says 
*  Attack  '  when  he  should  have  said  '  Retreat.' 
What  is  the  result?  Five,  ten,  or  fifteen  thou- 
sand men,  many  of  them  better  men  than  he  is, 
left  dead  on  the  field.  Grant  hr.,.!  nothing  of 
this  feeling-.  He  simply  knew  how  to  subtract, 
as  I  said  before.  It  is  like  this  :  You  have 
fifty  thousand  men  and  I  have  twenty-five  thou- 
sand. When  I  kill  twenty-five  thousand  of 
your  men  and  you  kill  twenty-five  thousand  of 
my  men,  you  have  twenty-five  thousand  left  and 
I  have  none.  You  are  the  victor,  and  the 
thoughtless  crowd  howls  about  you,  but  that 
does  not  make  you  out  the  greatest  general  by 
a  long  shot.  If  Lee  had  had  Grant's  number, 
and  Grant  had  Lee's,  the  result  would  have 
been  reversed.  Grant  set  himself  to  do  this 
little  sum  in  subtraction,  and  he  did  it — did  it 
probably  as  quickly  as  any  other  man  would 
have  done  it,  and  he  knew  that  when  it  was 
done  the  war  would  have  to  slop.  That's  all 
there  was  to  it." 

The  older  man  shook  his  head.  "  I  doubt," 
he  said,  "  if  history  will  take  your  view  either  of 
the  motives  of  those  in  power  or  of  the  way  the 
war  was  carried  on.  It  was  a  great  and  noble 
struggle,  heroically  fought  by  those  deluded 
people  who  were  in  the  wrong,  and  stubbornly 
contested  at  immense  self-sacrifice  by  those  who 
were  in  the  right." 

"  What  a  pity  it  was,"  said  young  Howard  to 
the  newspaper  man,  with  a  rudeness  that  drew 
a  frown  from  his  father,  "  that  you  didn't  get  to 
show  'em  how  to  carry  on  the  war." 


A 


•ffn  tbe  /HblDat  ot  Blarms. 


81 


"  Well,"  said  Yates,  with  a  humorous  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "  I  flatter  myself  that  I  would  have 
given  them  some  valuable  pointers.  Still,  it  is 
too  late  to  bemoan  their  neglect  now." 

"  Oh,  you  may  have  a  chance  yet,"  continued 
the  unabashed  young  mnn.  "  They  say  the 
Fenians  are  coming  over  here  this  time  sure. 
You  ought  to  volunteer  either  on  our  side  or  on 
theirs,  and  show  how  a  war  ought  to  be  carried 
on." 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  in  the  Fenian  scare! 
They  won't  venture  over.  They  fight  with 
their  mouths.     It's  the  safest  way." 

•'  I  believe  you,"  said  the  youth  significantly. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  the  boy  had  been  so 
inconsiderate  as  to  make  these  remarks  that 
Yates  received  a  cordial  invitation  from  both 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  to  visit  the  farm  as  often 
as  he  cared  to  do  so.  Of  this  privilege  Yates 
resolved  to  avail  himself,  but  he  would  have 
prized  it  more  if  Miss  Mnrgaret  had  added  her 
word — which  she  did  not,  perhaps  because  she 
was  so  busy  looking  after  the  bread.  Yates 
knew,  however,  that  with  a  woman  apparent 
progress  is  rarely  synonymous  with  real  prog- 
ress. This  knowledge  soothed  his  disappoint- 
ment. 

As  he  walked  back  to  the  camp  he  reviewed 
his  own  feelings  with  something  like  astonish- 
ment. Th.e  march  of  events  was  rapid  even 
for  him,  who  was  not  slow  in  anything  he 
undertook. 

"  It  is  the  result  c'  leisure,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  It  is  the  first  breathing  time  I  have  had 
for  fifteen  years.  Not  two  days  of  my  vacation 
gone,  and  here  I  am  hopelessly  in  love  !  " 


i 


■i  I, 


i!: 


"(I 


11  ' 

if 
I! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Yates  had  intended  to  call  at  the  Bartletts' 
and  escort  Renmark  back  to  the  woods ;  but 
when  he  got  outside  he  forgot  the  existence  of 
the  professor,  and  wandered  somewhat  aimlessly 
up  the  side  road,  switching  at  the  weeds  that 
always  grow  in  great  profusion  along  the 
ditches  of  a  CanaJian  country  thoroughfare. 
The  day  was  sunny  and  warm,  and  as  Yates 
wandered  on  in  the  direction  of  the  forest  he 
thought  of  many  things.  He  had  feared  that 
he  would  find  life  deadly  dull  so  far  from  New 
York,  without  /en  the  consolation  of  a  morn- 
ing paper,  the  feverish  reading  of  which  liad 
become  a  sort  of  vice  with  him,  like  smoking. 
He  had  imagined  that  he  could  not  exist  with- 
out his  morning  paper,  but  he  now  realized  that 
it  was  not  nearly  so  important  a  factor  in  life 
as  he  had  supposed  ;  yet  he  sighed  when  he 
thought  of  it,  and  wished  he  had  one  with  him 
of  current  date.  He  could  now,  for  the  first 
time  in  many  years,  read  a  paper  without  that 
vague  fear  which  always  possessed  him  when 
he  look  up  an  opposition  sheet,  still  damp  from 
the  press.  Before  he  could  enjoy  it  his  habit 
was  to  scan  i*  over  rapidly  to  see  if  it  contained 
any  item  of  news  which  he  himself  had  missed 
the  previous  ('ay.  The  impending  "  scoop  " 
hangs  over  the  head  of  the  newspaper  man  like 
the  sword  so  often  quoted.  Great  as  the  joy 
of  beating  the  opposition  press  is,  it  never  takes 
the  poignancy  of  the  sting  away  from  a  beating 
received.    If  a  terrible  disaster  took  place,  and 

82 


fn  tbe  /Ibidat  of  Blarntd* 


83 


another  paper  gave  fuller  particulars  than  the 
ArgHs  did,  Yates  found  himself  almost  wishing 
the  accident  had  not  occurred,  although  he 
recognized  such  a  wish  as  decidedly  unprofes- 
sional. 

Richard's  idea  of  the  correct  spirit  in  a  re- 
porter was  exemplified  by  an  old  broken-down, 
out-of-work  morning  newspaper  man,  who  had 
not  long  before  connnitted  suicide  at  an  hour 
in  the  day  too  late  for  the  evening  papers  to  get 
the  sensational  item.  He  had  sent  in  to  the 
paper  for  which  he  formerly  worked  a  full 
account  of  the  fatality,  accurately  headed  and 
sub-headed  ;  and,  in  his  note  to  the  city  editor, 
he  told  why  he  had  chosen  the  hour  of  7  P.  M. 
as  the  time  for  his  departure  from  an  unappre- 
ciative  world. 

'*  Ah,  well,"  said  Yates  under  his  breath,  and 
suddenly  pulling  himself  together,  "  I  mustn't 
think  of  New  York  if  I  intend  to  stay  here  for 
a  couple  of  weeks.  I'll  be  city-sick  the  first 
thing  I  know,  and  then  I'll  make  a  break  for 
the  metropolis.  This  will  never  do.  The  air 
he'-e  is  enchanting,  it  fills  a  man  with  new  life. 
This  is  the  spot  for  me,  and  I'll  stick  to  it  till 
I'm  right  again.  Hang  New  York !  But  I 
mustn't  think  of  Broadway  or  I'm  done  for." 

He  came  to  the  spot  in  the  road  where  he 
could  see  the  white  side  of  the  tent  under  the 
dark  trees,  and  climbed  up  on  the  rail  fence, 
sitting  there  for  a  few  mor  ^nts.  The  occa- 
sional call  of  a  quail  from  a  neighboring  field 
was  the  only  sound  that  broke  the  intense  still- 
ness. The  warm  smell  of  spring  was  in  the  air. 
The  buds  had  but  recently  broken,  and  the 
woods,  intensely  green,  had  a  look  of  newness 
and  freshness  that  was  comforting  to  the  eye 
and  grateful  to  the  other  senses.  The  world 
seemed  to  be  but  lately  made.  The  young 
man  breathed  deeply  of  the  vivifying  air,  and 


I 


i 


t 


i 


i' 


84 


•ffn  tbe  /iR<&9t  of  Blarma. 


said :  "  No,  there's  nothing^  the  matter  with 
this  place,  Dick.  New  York's  a  fool  to  it." 
Then,  with  a  sigh,  he  added  :  "  If  I  can  stand 
it  for  two  weeks.  I  wonder  how  tlie  boys  are 
getting  on  without  nie." 

In  spite  of  himself  his  thoughts  kept  drifting 
back  to  the  great  city,  although  he  told  himself 
that  it  wouldn't  do.  He  gazed  at  the  peaceful, 
spreading  landscape,  but  his  eyes  were  vacant 
and  he  saw  nothing.  The  roar  of  the  streets 
was  in  his  ears.  Suddenly  his  reverie  was 
broken  by  a  voice  from  the  forest. 

"  I  say,  Yates,  where's  the  bread  ?  " 

Yates  looked  quickly  around,  somewhat 
startled,  and  saw  the  professor  coming  toward 
him. 

"  The  bread  ?  I  forgot  all  about  it.  No  ;  I 
didn't  either.  They  were  baking — that  was  it. 
I  am  to  go  for  it  later  in  the  day.  What  loot 
did  you  rake  in,  professor?" 

•'  Vegetables  mostly." 

"  That's  all  right.     Have  a  good  dinner  ?  " 

"  Excellent." 

'•  So  did  I.  Renny,  when  you  interrupted 
me,  I  was  just  counting  the  farmhouses  in 
sight.  What  do  you  say  to  boarding  round 
among  them  ?  You  are  a  schoolmaster,  and 
ought  to  know  all  about  it.  Isn't  education  in 
this  country  encouraged  by  paying  the  teacher 
as  little  as  possible,  and  letting  him  take  it  out 
in  eating  his  way  from  one  house  to  another? 
Ever  board  around,  Renny  ?  " 

"  Never.  If  the  custom  once  existed  in 
Canada,  it  is  out  of  date  now." 

"  That's  a  pity.  I  hate  to  face  my  own  cook- 
ing, Renmark.  We  become  less  brave  as  we 
grow  older.  By  the  way,  how  is  old  man  Bart- 
lett  ?     As  well  as  could  be  expected  ?  " 

"  He  seemed  much  as  usual.  Mrs.  Bartlett 
has  sent  out  two  chairs  to  the  tent :  ^he  fears 


■  I.    IE. 

J.: 


L».V 


Ifn  tbe  /Hbiddt  of  Blarnid. 


85 


we   will    get    rheumatism    if    we    sit    on    the 
ground." 

"  She  is  a  kind  woman,  Rcnny,  and  a  thought- 
ful. And  that  reminds  me  :  I  have  a  hammock 
somewhere  among  my  belongings.  I  will 
swing  it  up.  Chairs  are  comfortable,  but  a 
hammock  is  luxury." 

Yates  slid  down  from  the  fence  top,  and  to- 
gether the  two  men  walked  to  the  tent.  The 
hammock  was  unfurled  and  slung  between  two 
trees.  Yates  tested  it  cautiously,  and  fmally 
trusted  himself  to  its  restful  folds  of  network. 
He  was  swaying  indoU.'ntly  several  feet  from 
the  ground  when  he  said  to  Renmark  : 

"1  v„all  this  paradise — paradise  regained  ;  but 
it  will  be  paradise  lost  next  month.  Now,  pro- 
fessor, I  am  ready  to  do  the  cooking,  but  I 
have  a  fancy  for  doing  it  by  proxy.  The 
general  directs,  and  the  useful  prosaic  man 
execute.«?.  Where  are  your  vegetables,  Renny  ? 
Potatoes  and  carrots,  eh  }  Very  good.  Now, 
you  may  wash  them,  Renny;  but  first  you 
must  bring  some  water  from  the  spring." 

The  professor  was  a  patient  man,  and  he 
obeyed.  Yates  continued  to  swing  in  the  ham- 
mock, alternating  directions  with  rhapsodies  on 
the  beauties  of  the  day  and  the  stillness  of  the 
woods.  ReniTiark  said  but  little,  and  attended 
strictly  to  the  business  in  hand.  The  vege- 
tables finished,  he  took  a  book  from  his  valise, 
tilted  a  chair  back  against  a  tree,  and  began  to 
read. 

"  I'm  depending  upon  you  for  the  bread,"  he 
said  to  the  drowsy  man  in  the  hammock. 

"  Right  you  are,  Renny.  Your  confidence  is 
not  misplaced.  I  shall  presently  journey  down 
into  the  realms  of  civilization,  and  fill  the  long- 
felt  want.  I  shall  go  to  the  Howards  by  way 
of  the  B.^rtlett  homestead,  but  I  warn  you  that 
if  there  is  a  meal  on,  at  either  place,  you  will 


]  11 


h 


86 


•ffn  the  /lftl&9t  of  Blarma. 


not  have  me  here  to  test  your  first  efforts  at 
cooking.  So  you  may  have  to  wait  until  break- 
fast for  my  0|)inion." 

Yates  extricated  himself  slowly  and  reluc- 
tantly from  the  hammock,  and  looked  regret- 
fully at  it  when  he  stood  once  more  on  the 
ground. 

"  This  mad  struggle  for  bread,  professor,  is 
the  curse  of  life  here  below.  It  is  what  we  are 
all  after.  If  it  were  not  for  the  necessity  of 
bread  and  clothing,  what  a  good  time  a  fel- 
low might  have.  Well,  my  blessing,  Renny. 
Good-by." 

Yates  strolled  slowly  through  the  woods, 
until  he  came  to  the  beginning  of  a  lane  which 
led  to  the  Bartlett  homestead.  He  saw  the 
farmer  and  his  son  at  work  in  the  back  fields. 
From  between  the  distant  house  and  barn  there 
arose,  straight  up  into  the  still  air,  a  blue  col- 
umn of  smoke,  which,  reaching  a  certain  height, 
spread  out  like  a  thin,  hazy  cloud  above  the 
dwelling.  At  first  Yates  thought  that  some 
of  the  outhouses  were  on  fire,  and  he  quickened 
his  pace  to  a  run;  but  a  moment's  reflection 
showed  him  that  the  column  was  plainly  visible 
to  the  workers  in  the  fields,  and  that  if  any- 
thing were  wrong  they  would  not  continue 
placidly  at  their  labor.  When  he  had  walked 
the  long  length  of  the  lane,  and  had  safely 
rounded  the  corner  of  the  barn,  he  saw,  in  the 
open  space  between  that  building  and  the  house, 
a  huge  camp  fire  blazing.  From  a  pole,  upheld 
by  two  crotched  supports,  hung  a  big  iron 
kettle  over  the  flames.  The  caldron  was  full 
nearly  to  the  brim,  and  the  steam  was  already 
beginning  to  rise  from  its  surface,  although  the 
fire  had  evidently  been  but  recently  kindled. 
The  smoke  was  not  now  so  voluminous,  but 
Kitty  Bartlett  stood  there  with  a  big-brimmed 
straw  hat  in  her  hands,  fanning  it  away  from 


S\ 


ITn  the  /Ryiddt  ot  Blarm^* 


8; 


her  face,  while  the  hat  at  the  same  time  pro- 
tected her  rosy  countenance  from  the  fire.  She 
plainly  was  not  prepared  to  receive  visitors,  and 
she  started  when  the  young  man  addressed  her, 
flushing  still  more  deeply,  apparently  annoyed 
at  his  unwelcome  appearance. 

"  Good-afternoon,"  he  said  cordially.  "Pre- 
paring for  washing  .-^  I  thought  Monday  was 
washing  day." 

"It  is." 

"  Then  I  have  not  been  misinformed.  And 
you  are  not  preparing  for  washing  ?  " 

"  We  are." 

Yates  laughed  so  heartily  that  Kitty,  in  spite 
of  herself,  had  to  permit  a  smile  to  briglucn  her 
own  features.  She  always  found  it  difficult  to 
remain  solenm  for  any  length  of  time. 

"This  is  obviously  a  conundrum,"  said  Yates, 
ticking  off  the  items  on  his  four  fingers.  "  First, 
Monday  is  washing  day.  Second,  this  is  not 
Monday.  Third,nt"*her  is  to-morrow.  Fourth, 
we  are  preparing  for  washing.  I  give  it  up, 
Miss  Bartlett.     V\     .  tJl  me  the  answer." 

"  The  answer  i^  ''.at  I  am  making  soap  ;  soft 
sonp,  if  you  know  what  that  is." 

"  Practically,  I  don't  know  what  it  is  ;  but  I 
have  heard  the  term  used  in  a  political  connec- 
tion. In  the  States  we  say  that  if  a  man  is 
very  '  "lomatic  he  uses  soft  sonp,  so  I  suppose 
it  hi-  lubricating  qualities.  Sam  Slick  used  the 
term  'soft  sawder'  in  the  same  way  ;  but  what 
sawder  is,  soft  or  hard,  I  haven't  the  slightest 
idea. 

"  I  thought  you  knew  everything,  Mr. 
Yates." 

"Me?  Bless  you,  no.  I'm  a  humble  gleaner 
in  the  field  of  knowledge.  That's  why  I  brought 
a  Toronto  professor  with  me.  I  want  to  learn 
something,  Won't  you  teach  me  how  to  make 
soap  ? ' 


I 


88 


IFn  tbe  ffSsitist  of  Blarma, 


t 


f\ 


I 


'  ;    1 


"I'm  very  busy  just  now.  Wlien  I  said  that 
we  were  preparing  for  washing,  I  should  per- 
haps have  told  you  there  was  something  else 
we  are  not  prepared  for  to-day." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  A  visitor." 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Bartlett,  you  are  a  little 
hard  on  me.  I'm  not  a  visitor.  I'm  a  friend 
of  the  family.  I  want  to  help.  You  will  find 
me  a  most  diligent  student.  Won't  you  give 
me  a  chance  .''  " 

"  All  the  hard  work's  done.  But  perhaps 
you  knew  that  before  you  came." 

Yates  looked  at  her  reproachfully,  and  sighed 
deeply. 

"  That's  what  it  is  to  be  a  misunderstood 
man.  So  you  think,  among  other  bad  qualities, 
I  have  the  habit  of  shirking  work  ?  Let  me 
tell  you,  Miss  Bartlett,  that  the  reason  I  am 
here  is  because  I  have  worked  too  hard. 
Now,  confess  that  you  are  sorry  for  what  you 
said — trampling  on  an  already  downtrodden 
man." 

Kitty  laughed  merrily  at  this,  and  Yates 
laughed  also,  for  his  sense  of  comradeship  was 
strong. 

"  You  don't  look  as  if  you  had  ever  worked 
in  your  life  ;  I  don't  believe  you  know  what 
work  is." 

"  But  there  are  different  kinds  of  labor. 
Don't  you  call  writing  work  ?  " 

"No." 

"  That's  just  where  you're  mistaken.  It  is, 
and  hard  work,  too.  I'll  tell  you  about  the 
newspaper  business  if  you'll  tell  me  about  soap 
making.  Fair  exchange.  I  wish  you  would 
take  me  as  a  pupil,  Miss  Bartlett ;  yoj  would 
find  me  quick  at  picking  up  things." 

"Well,  then,  pick  up  that  pail  and  draw  a 
pailful  of  water." 


IS, 

the 


tn  tbc  /i&iD0t  of  Blarm0. 


89 


"  I'll  do  it,"  cried  Yates  sternly;  "  I'll  do  it, 
thout(h  it  blast  me." 

Yates  picked  up  tiie  wooden  pail,  painted 
blue  on  the  outside,  with  a  red  stripe  near  the 
top  for  ornament,  and  cream-colored  inside. 
It  was  called  a  "  patent  jiail  "  in  those  days,  as 
it  was  a  comparatively  recent  innovation,  being 
cheaper,  lij^hter.  and  slron^^er  than  the  tin  pail 
which  it  was  rapidly  replacing.  At  the  well  was 
a  stout  pole,  pinnetl  through  the  center  to  the 
upright  support  on  which  it  swung,  like  the 
walking-beam  of  an  engine.  The  thick  end, 
which  rested  on  the  ground,  was  loaded  with 
heavy  stones  ;  while  from  the  thin  end,  high  in 
the  air,  there  dangled  over  the  mouth  of  the 
well  a  slim  pole  with  a  hook.  Tiiis  hook  was 
ingeniously  furnished  witli  a  spring  of  hickory, 
wliich  snapped  when  the  handle  of  the  pail  was 
placed  on  the  hook,  and  prevented  the"  patent" 
utensil  from  slipping  off  when  it  was  lowered  to 
the  surface  of  the  water.  Yates  speedily  recog- 
nized the  usefulness  of  this  contrivance,  for  he 
found  that  the  filling  of  a  wooden  pail  in  a  deep 
well  was  not  the  simple  affair  it  looked.  The 
bucket  bobbed  about  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  Once  he  forgot  the  necessity  of  keeping 
a  stout  grip  on  the  pole,  and  the  next  instant 
the  pail  came  up  to  the  sunlight  with  a  sudden- 
ness that  was  terrifying.  Only  an  equally  sud- 
den backward  jump  on  Yates'  part  saved  his 
head.  Miss  Bartlett  was  pleased  to  look  upon 
this  incident  as  funny.  Yates  was  so  startled 
by  the  unexpected  revolt  of  the  pail  that  his 
native  courtesy  did  not  get  a  chance  to  prevent 
Kitty  from  drawing  up  the  water  herself.  She 
lowered  the  vessel,  pulling  down  the  pole  in  a 
hand-over-hand  manner  that  the  young  man 
thought  decidedly  fetching,  and  then  she  gave 
an  almost  imperceptible  twist  to  the  arrange- 
ment  that   resulted   in   instant   success.     The 


I.' 

I 


"f 


■I 


If 


1 1, 


90 


•ffn  tbe  iflblDst  of  Blacms. 


next  thing  Yates  knew  the  full  pail  was  resting 
on  the  well  curb,  and  the  hickory  spring  had 
given  the  click  that  released  the  handle. 

"  There,"  said  Kitty,  suppressing  her  merri- 
ment, "  that's  how  it's  done." 

"  I  see  the  result,  Miss  Bartlett;  but  I'm  not 
sure  I  can  do  the  trick.  These  things  are  not 
so  simple  as  they  seem.  What  is  the  next 
step?" 

"  Pour  the  water  into  the  leach." 

"  Into  the  what  ?  " 

"  Into  the  leach,  I  said.     Where  else  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  up  a  tree  again.  I  see  I  don't  even 
know  the  A  B  C  of  this  business.  In  the  old 
days  the  leech  was  a  physician.  You  don't 
mean  I'm  to  drown  a  doctor?  " 

"  This  is  the  leach,"  said  Kitty,  pointing  to  a 
large,  yellowish,  upright  wooden  cylinder,  which 
rested  on  some  slanting  boards,  down  the  sur- 
face of  which  ran  a  brownish  liquid  that  dripped 
into  a  trough. 

As  Yates  stood  on  a  bench  with  the  pail  in 
his  hand  he  saw  that  the  cylinder  was  tilled 
nearly  to  the  top  with  sodden  wood  ashes. 
He  poured  in  the  water,  and  it  sank  quickly  out 
of  sight. 

"  So  this  is  part  of  the  soap-making  equip- 
ment ?  "  he  said,  stepping  down  ;  "  I  thought 
the  iron  kettle  over  the  tire  was  the  whole 
factory.     Tell  me  about  the  leach." 

"  That  is  where  the  hard  work  of  soap  making 
comes  in,"  said  Kitty,  stirring  the  contents  of 
the  iron  kettle  with  a  long  stick.  "  Keeping 
the  leach  supplied  with  water  at  first  is  no 
fun,  for  then  the  ashes  are  dry.  If  you  put 
in  five  more  pails  of  water,  I  will  tell  you 
about  it." 

"  Right ! "  cried  Yates,  pleased  to  see  that  the 
girl's  evident  objection  to  his  presence  at  first 
was  fast  disappear!         "  Now    you'll  under- 


fn  tbe  /IbiDdt  ot  Blarme. 


91 


he 
rst 
er- 


stand  how  energetic  I  am.  I'm  a  handy  man 
about  a  place." 

When  he  had  completed  his  task,  she  was 
still  stirring  the  thickening  liquid  in  the  caldron, 
guarding  her  face  from  the  fire  with  her  big 
straw  hat.  Her  clustering,  tangled  fair  hair 
was  down  about  her  shoulders ;  and  Yates,  as 
he  put  the  pail  in  its  place,  when  it  had  been 
emptied  the  fifth  time,  thought  she  formed  a 
very  pretty  picture  standing  there  by  the  fire, 
even  if  she  were  making  soft  soap. 

"  The  wicked  genii  has  finished  the  task  set 
him  by  the  fairy  princess.  Now  for  the  reward. 
I  want  all  the  particulars  about  the  leach.  In 
the  first  place,  where  do  you  get  this  huge  wooden 
cylinder  that  I  have,  without  apparent  effect, 
been  pouring  water  into  }  Is  it  manufactured 
or  natural  ?  " 

"  Both.  It  is  a  section  of  the  buttonwood 
tree." 

"  Buttonwood  ?  I  don't  think  I  ever  heard  of 
that.  I  know  the  beech  and  the  maple,  and 
some  kinds  of  oak,  but  there  my  wood  lore  ends. 
Why  the  buttonwood  }  " 

"The  buttonwood  happens  to  be  exactly 
suited  to  the  purpose.  It  is  a  tree  that  is  very 
fine  to  look  at.  It  seems  all  right,  but  it  gener- 
ally isn't.  It  is  hollow  or  rotten  within,  and, 
even  when  sound,  the  timber  made  from  it  is  of 
little  value,  as  it  doesn't  last.  Yet  you  can't  tell 
until  you  begin  to  chop  whether  it  is  of  any  use 
or  not."  Kitty  shot  a  quick  ^kmce  at  the  young 
man,  who  was  sitting  on  a  log  watching  her. 

"  Go  on.  Miss  Bartlett ;  I  see  what  you  mean. 
There  a»e  men  like  the  buttonwood  tree.  The 
woods  are  full  of  them.  I've  met  lots  of  that 
kind,  fair  to  look  upon,  but  hollow.  Of  course 
you  don't  mean  anything  personal ;  for  you 
must  have  seen  my  worth  by  the  way  I  stuck  to 
the  water  hauling.     But  go  on." 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


I 


/ 


O 


o    ^f/4 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


1^  1^ 


■2.5 
hMMI 

II" 


1^  1^  llliio 


1.4 


1.8 


1.6 


V] 


<^ 


A 


^^     ^      ^        Ov 


y 


>^ 


^^^ 


iV 


^ 


<v 


^N 


^<b 


;\ 


'^^^  <^ 


S'. 


;i, 


92 


1In  tbe  /BblDst  of  Blarms. 


1! 


"  Dear  me,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  ; 

but  a  guilty  conscience,  they  say "  said  Kitty, 

witli  a  giggle. 

"  Of  course  they  say ;  but  it's  wrong,  hke 
most  other  things  they  say.  It's  the  man  with 
the  guilty  conscience  who  looks  you  straight  in 
the  eye.  Now  that  the  button  wood  is  chopped 
down,  what's  the  next  thing  to  be  done  }  " 

"  It  is  sawn  off  at  the  proper  length,  square 
at  one  end  and  slanting  at  the  other." 

"  Why  slanting?  " 

"  Don't  you  see,  the  foundation  of  plank  on 
which  it  rests  is  inclined,  so  the  end  of  the  leach 
that  is  down  must  be  slantingly  cut,  otherwise 
it  would  not  stand  perpendicularly.  It  would 
topple  over  in  the  first  windstorm." 

"  I  see,  I  see.  Then  they  haul  it  in  and  set 
it  up?" 

"  Oh,  dear  no  ;  not  yet.  They  build  a  fire  in 
it  when  it  gets  dry  enough." 

"  Really  ?  I  think  I  understand  the  compre- 
hensive scheme,  but  I  slip  up  on  the  details,  as 
when  I  tried  to  submerge  that  wooden  pail. 
What's  the  fire  for?" 

"  To  burn  out  what  remains  of  the  soft  in- 
side wood,  so  as  to  leave  only  the  hard  outside 
shell.  Then  the  charring  of  the  inner  surface 
is  supposed  to  make  the  leach  better—more 
water-tight,  perhaps." 

"  Quite  so.     Then  it  is  hauled  in  and  set  up?" 

"  Yes ;  and  gradually  filled  with  ashes. 
When  it  is  full,  we  pour  the  water  in  it,  and 
catch  the  lye  as  it  drips  out.  This  is  put  in  the 
caldron  with  grease,  pigskins,  and  that  sort  of 
thing,  and  when  it  boils  long  enough,  *he  result 
is  soft  soap." 

"  And  if  you  boil  it  too  long,  what  is  the 
result  ?  " 

"  Hard  soap,  I  suppose.  I  never  boil  it  too 
long." 


in 


•ffn  tbe  /IftiDgt  ot  Blarm^, 


93 


The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  a 
hissing  in  the  fire,  caused  by  the  tumultuous 
boiling  over  of  the  soap.  Kitty  hurriedly  threw 
in  a  basin  of  cold  Ive,  and  stirred  the  mixture 
vigorously. 

*•  You  see,"  she  said  reproachfully,  "  the 
result  of  keeping  me  talking  nonsense  to  you. 
Now  you  will  have  to  make  up  for  it  by  bring- 
ing in  some  wood  and  putting  more  water  into 
the  leach." 

"  With  the  utmost  pleasure,"  cried  Yates, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "  It  is  a  delight  to  atone 
for  a  fault  by  obeying  your  commands." 

The  girl  laughed.     "  Buttonvvood,"  she  said. 

Before  Yates  could  think  of  anything  to  say 
in  reply  Mrs.  Bartlett  appeared  at  th'".  back 
door. 

"  How  is  the  soap  getting  on,  Kitty  .''  "  she 
asked.     "  Why,  Mr.  Yates,  are  you  here .''  " 

"  Am  I  here }  I  should  say  I  was.  Very 
much  here.  I'm  the  hired  man.  I'm  the  hewer 
of  wood  and  the  hauler  of  water,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  I'm  the  hauler  of  both.  And 
besides,  I've  been  learning  how  to  make  soap, 
Mrs.  Bartlett," 

"  Well,  it  won't  hurt  you  to  know  how." 

"  You  bet  it  won't.  When  I  get  back  to 
New  York,  the  first  thing  I  shall  do  will  be  to 
chop  down  a  buttonwood  tree  in  the  park,  if  I 
can  find  one,  and  set  up  a  leach  for  myself. 
Lye  comes  useful  in  running  a  paper." 

Mrs.  Bartlett's  eyes  twinkled,  for,  although 
she  did  not  quite  understand  his  nonsense,  she 
knew  it  was  nonsense,  and  she  had  a  liking  for 
frivolous  persons,  her  own  husband  being  so 
somber-minded. 

"Tea  is  ready,"  she  said.  "Of  course  you 
will  stay,  Mr.  Yates." 

•'  Really,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  I  cannot  conscien- 
tiously do  so.     I  haven't  earned  a  meal  since 


94 


irn  tbe  ^(D0t  ot  Blarms. 


'(I 


^/). 


the  last  one.  No  ;  my  conscience  won't  let  me 
accept,  but  thank  you  all  the  same." 

"  Nonsense ;  my  conscience  won't  let  you 
go  away  hungry.  If  nobody  were  to  eat  but 
those  who  earn  their  victuals,  there  would  be 
more  starving  people  in  the  world  than  there 
are.     Of  course  you'll  stay." 

"Now,  that's  what  I  like,  Mrs.  Bartlett.  I 
like  to  have  a  chance  of  refusing  an  invitation 
I  yearn  for,  and  then  be  forced  to  accept. 
That's  true  hospitality."  Then  in  a  whisper 
he  added  to  Kitty  ;  "  If  you  dare  to  say  '  button- 
wood,'  Miss  Bartlett,  you  and  I  will  quarrel." 

But  Kitty  said  nothing,  now  that  her  mother 
had  appeared  on  the  scene,  but  industriously 
stirred  the  contents  of  the  iron  kettle. 

"  Kitty,"  said  the  mother,  "  you  call  the  men 
to  supper." 

"I  can't  leave  this,"  srjd  Kitty,  flushing; 
'•  it  will  boil  over.     You  call,  mother." 

So  Mrs.  Bartlett  held  her  open  palms  on 
each  side  of  her  mouth,  and  gave  the  long 
wailing  cry,  which  was  faintly  answered  from 
the  fields,  and  Yates,  who  knew  a  thing  or  two, 
noted  with  SC'  satisfaction  that  Kitty  had 
refused  doubtless  because  he  was  there. 


I 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


"  I  TELL  you  what  it  is,  Renny,"  said  Yates, 
a  few  days  after  the  soap  episode,  as  he  swung 
in  his  hammock  at  the  camp,  "  I'm  learning 
something  new  every  day." 

"Not  really?"  asked  the  professor  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  really.  I  knew  it  would  astonish  you. 
My  chief  pleasure  in  life,  professor,  is  the  sur- 
prising of  you.  I  sometimes  wonder  why  it  de- 
lights me  ;  it  is  so  easily  done." 

"  Never  mind  about  that.  What  have  you 
been  learning.-^  " 

"Wisdom,  my  boy;  wisdom  in  solid  chunks. 
In  the  tirst  place,  I  am  learning  to  admire  the 
resourcefulness  of  these  people  around  us. 
Practically,  they  make  everything  they  need. 
They  are  the  most  self-helping  people  that  I 
was  ever  thrown  among.  I  look  upon  theirs 
as  the  ideal  life." 

"  I  think  you  said  something  like  that  when 
we  first  came  here." 

"  I  said  that,  you  ass,  about  camping  out. 
I  am  talking  now  about  farm  life.  Farmers 
eliminate  the  middleman  pretty  effectualiy, 
and  that  in  itself  is  going  a  long  way  toward 
complete  happiness.  Take  the  making  of  soap, 
that  I  told  you  about;  there  you  have  it,  cheap 
and  good.  When  you've  made  it,  you  know 
what  is  in  it,  and  I'll  be  hanged  if  you  do  when 
you  pay  a  big  price  for  it  in  New  York.  Here 
they  make  pretty  nearly  everything  they  need, 

95 


96 


•ffn  tbe  m^et  of  Blarma. 


5!i. 


w 


h  l> 


n 


except  the  wagon  and  the  crockery;  and  I'm 
not  sure  but  they  made  them  a  few  years  back. 
Now,  when  a  man  with  a  good  sharp  ax  and 
a  jack-knife  can  do  anything  from  building  his 
house  to  whitthng  out  a  chair,  he's  the  most 
independent  man  on  earth.  Nobody  hves 
better  than  these  people  do.  Everything  is 
fresh,  sweet,  and  good.  Perhaps  the  country 
air  helps ;  but  it  seems  to  me  I  never  tasted 
such  meals  as  Mrs.  Bartlett,  for  instance,  gets 
up.  They  buy  nothing  at  the  stores  except  the 
tea,  and  1  confess  I  prefer  milk  myself.  My 
tastes  were  always  simple." 

•'  And  what  is  the  deduction  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  this  is  the  proper  way  to  live. 
Old  Hiram  has  an  anvil  and  an  amateur  forge. 
He  can  tinker  up  almost  anything,  and  that 
eliminates  the  blacksmith.  Howard  has  a 
bench,  saws,  hammers,  and  other  tools,  and  that 
eliminates  the  carpenter.  The  women  elimi- 
nate the  baker,  the  soap  boiler,  and  a  lot  of 
other  parasites.  Now,  when  you  have  elimi- 
nated all  tlk^  middlemen,  then  comes  independ- 
ence, and  consequently  complete  happiness. 
You  can't  keep  happiness  away  with  a  shotgun 
then." 

"  But  what  is  to  become  of  the  blacksmith, 
the  carpenter,  and  all  the  rest  ?  " 

"  Let  them  take  up  land  and  be  happy  too  ; 
there's  plenty  of  land.  The  land  is  waiting  for 
them.  Then  look  how  the  master  is  eliminated. 
That's  the  most  beautiful  riddance  of  all. 
Even  the  carpenter  and  blacksmith  usually  have 
to  work  under  a  boss ;  and  if  not,  they  have  to 
depend  on  the  men  who  employ  them.  The 
farmer  has  to  please  nobody  but  himself.  That 
adds  to  his  independence.  That's  why  old 
Hiram  is  ready  to  fight  the  first  comer  on  the 
slightest  provocation.  He  doesn't  care  whom 
he  offends,  so  long  as  it  isn't  his  wife.     These 


n 


•ffn  tbe  /lRi^0t  of  Blarms. 


97 


people  know  how  to  make  what  they  want,  and 
what  they  can't  make  they  do  without.  That's 
the  way  to  form  a  great  nation.  You  raise,  in 
this  way,  a  self-sustaining,  resolute,  unconquer- 
able people.  The  reason  the  North  conquered 
the  South  was  because  we  drew  our  armies 
mostly  from  the  self-reliant  farming  class, 
while  we  had  to  fight  a  people  accustomed  for 
generations  to  having  things  done  for  them." 
"  Why  don't  you  buy  a  farni,  Yates.'' " 
"Several  reasons.  I  am  spoiled  for  the  life 
here.  I  am  like  the  drunkard  who  admires  a 
temperate  life,  yet  can't  pass  a  ginshop.  The 
city  virus  is  in  my  blood.  And  then,  perhaps, 
after  all,  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  Vv'ith  the  tend- 
ency of  farm  life  ;  it  is  unfortunately  in  a  transi- 
tion state.  It  is  at  the  frame-house  stage,  and 
will  soon  blossom  into  the  red-brick  stage. 
The  log-house  era  is  what  I  yearn  for.  Then 
everything  a  person  needed  was  made  on  the 
farm.  When  the  brick-house  e'a  sets  in,  the 
middleman  will  be  rampant.  I  saw  the  other 
day  at  the  Howards'  a  set  of  anjient  stones  that 
interested  me  as  much  as  an  Assyrian  marble 
would  interest  you.  They  were  old,  home- 
made millstones,  and  they  have  not  been  used 
since  the  frame  house  was  built.  The  grist  mill 
at  the  village  put  them  out  of  date.  And  just 
here,  notice  the  subtlety  of  the  crafty  middle- 
man. The  farmer  takes  his  grist  to  the  mill, 
and  the  miller  does  not  charge  him  cash  for 
grinding  it.  He  takes  toll  out  of  the  bags,  and 
the  farmer  has  a  vague  idea  that  he  gets  his 
grinding  for  almost  nothing.  The  old  way  was 
the  best,  Renny,  my  boy.  The  farmer's  son 
won't  be  as  happy  in  the  brick  house  which  the 
mason  will  build  for  him  as  his  grandfather 
was  in  the  log  house  he  built  for  himself.  And 
fools  call  this  change  the  advance  of  civiliza- 
tion." 


71:' 


i  1 


i  I 


ii 


/i 


'I 


i 


'-.i'  ).'■ 


98 


1fn  tbc  flit&0t  of  Blarms. 


"  There  is  something-  to  be  said  for  the  old 
order  of  things,"  admitted  Renmark.  "  If  a 
person  could  unite  the  advantages  of  what  we 
call  civilization  with  the  advantages  of  a  pastoral 
life,  he  wouki  inaugurate  a  condition  of  things 
that  would  be  truly  idyllic." 

"  That's  so,  Renmark,  that's  so  !  "  cried  Yates 
enthusiastically,  "  A  brownstone  mansion  on 
Fifth  Avenue,  and  a  log  hut  on  the  shores  of 
Lake  Superior  !  That  would  suit  me  down  to 
the  ground.  Spend  half  the  year  in  each 
place." 

"Yes,"  said  the  professor  meditatively;  "a 
log  hut  on  the  rocks  and  under  the  trees,  with 
the  lake  in  front,  would  be  very  nice  if  the  hut 
had  a  good  library  attached." 

"  And  a  daily  paper.     Don't  forget  the  press." 

"  No.  I  draw  the  line  there.  The  daily 
paper  would  mean  the  daily  steamer  or  the 
daily  train.  The  one  would  frigliten  away  the 
fish,  and  the  other  would  disturb  the  stillness 
with  its  whistle." 

Yates  sighed.  "  I  forgot  about  the  draw- 
backs," he  said,  "  That's  the  trouble  with 
civilization.  You  can't  have  the  things  you 
want  without  bringing  in  their  trail  so  many 
things  you  don't  want.  I  shall  have  to  give  up 
the  claily  paper." 

"  Then  there  is  another  objection,  worse  than 
either  steamer  or  train." 

"What's  that?" 

"  The  daily  paper  itself." 

Yates  sat  up  indignantly. 

"Renmark!"  he  cried,  "that's  blasphemy. 
For  Heaven's  sake,  man,  hold  something  sacred. 
If  you  don't  respect  the  press,  what  do  you 
respect  ?  Not  my  most  cherished  feelings,  at 
any  rate,  or  you  wouldn't  talk  in  that  flippant 
manner.  If  you  speak  kindly  of  my  daily  paper, 
I'll  tolerate  your  library." 


a 


fit  tbe  ^i&st  ot  Blarms. 


99 


"And  that  reminds  me:  Have  you  brought 
any  books  with  you,  Yates  ?  I  have  gone 
through  most  of  mine  aheady,  although  many 
of  them  will  bear  going  over  again  ;  still,  I  have 
so  much  time  on  my  hands  that  I  think  I  may 
indulge  in  a  little  general  reading.  When  you 
wrote  asking  me  to  meet  you  in  Buffalo,  I 
thought  you  perhaps  intended  to  tramp  through 
the  country,  so  I  did  not  bring  as  many  books 
with  me  as  I  should  have  done  if  I  had  known 
you  were  going  to  camp  out." 

Yates  sprang  from  the  hammock. 

"  Books  ?  Well,  I  should  say  so  !  Perhaps 
you  think  I  don't  read  anything  but  the  daily 
papers.  I'd  have  you  know  that  I  am  some- 
thing of  a  reader  myself.  You  mustn't  imagine 
you  monopolize  all  the  culture  in  the  township 
professor." 

The  young  man  went  into  the  tent,  and 
shortly  returned  with  an  armful  of  yellow- 
covered,  paper-bound  small  volumes,  which  he 
flung  in  profusion  at  the  feet  of  the  man  from 
Toronto.  They  were  mostly  Beadle's  Dime 
Novels,  which  had  a  great  sale  at  the  time. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  you  have  quantity,  quality, 
and  variety,  as  I  have  before  remarked.  'The 
Murderous  Sioux  of  Kalamazoo  ; '  that's  a  good 
one.  A  hair-raising  Indian  story  in  every 
sense  of  the  word.  The  one  you  are  looking 
at  is  a  pirate  story,  judging  by  the  burning  ship 
on  the  cover.  But  for  first-class  highwaymen 
yarns,  this  other  edition  is  the  best.  That's  the 
'Sixteen  String  Jack  set.'  They're  immense,  if 
they  do  cost  a  quarter  each.  You  must  begin 
at  the  right  volume,  or  you'll  be  sorry.  You 
see,  they  never  really  end,  although  every  volume 
is  supposed  to  be  complete  in  itself.  They 
leave  ofT  at  the  most  exciting  point,  and  are 
continued  in  the  next  volume.  I  call  that  a 
pretty    /-cd  idea,  but  it's  rather  exasperating  if 


i  >  *'l 


'ii! 


,>i 


■  i' 


r    t 


W 


loo 


fln  tbe  /iftiDst  of  Blarma. 


^f  ' 


you  begin  at  the  last  book.  You'll  enjoy  this 
lot.     I'm  glad  I  brought  them  along." 

"  It  is  a  blessing,"  said  Renmark,  with  the 
ghost  of  a  smile  about  his  lips.  "  I  can 
truthfully  say  that  they  are  entirely  new  to 
me." 

"  That's  all  right,  my  boy,"  cried  Yates 
loftily,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand.  "  Use  them 
as  if  they  were  your  own." 

Renmark  arose  leisurely  and  picked  up  a 
quantity  of  the  books. 

"  These  will  do  excellently  for  lighting  our 
morning  camp  fire,"  he  said.  "  And  if  you  will 
allow  me  to  treat  them  as  if  they  were  my  own, 
that  is  the  use  to  which  I  will  put  them.  You 
surely  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you  read  such 
trash  as  this,  Yates  ?  " 

"Trash?"  exclaimed  Yates  indignantly. 
"  It  serves  me  right.  '  That's  what  a  man  gets 
for  being  decent  to  you,  Renny.  Well,  you're 
not  compelled  to  read  them  ;  but  if  you  put  one 
of  them  in  the  fire,  your  stupid  treatises  will 
follow,  if  they  are  not  too  solid  to  burn. 
You  don't  know  good  literature  when  you 
see  it." 

The  professor,  buoyed  up,  perhaps,  by  the 
conceit  which  comes  to  a  man  through  the  pos- 
session of  a  real  sheepskin  diploma,  granted 
by  a  university  of  good  standing,  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  defend  his  literary  taste.  He 
busied  himself  in  pruning  a  stick  he  had  cut  in 
the  forest,  and  finally  he  got  it  into  the  sem- 
blance of  a  walking  cane.  He  was  an  athletic 
man,  and  the  indolence  of  camp  life  did  not 
suit  him  as  it  did  Yates.  He  tested  the  stick  in 
various  ways  when  he  had  trimmed  it  to  his 
satisfaction. 

"  Are  you  ready  for  a  ten-mile  walk  ?  "  he 
asked  of  the  man  in  the  hammock. 

"  Good  gracious,  no.     Man  wants  but  little 


f 


•ffn  tbe  /ftlDst  of  Blarm^. 


lOI 


walking  here  below,  and  he  doesn't  want  it  ten 
miles  in  length  either.  I'm  easily  satisfied. 
You're  off,  are  you  ?  Well,  so  long.  And  I 
say,  Renny,  bring  back  some  bread  when  you 
return  to  camp.  It's  the  one  safe  thing 
to   do." 


J' 


CHAPTER   IX. 


a 


'111 


■ii  I 


Renmark  walked  through  the  woods  and 
then  across  the  fields,  until  he  came  to  the  road. 
He  avoided  the  habitations  of  man  as  much  as 
he  could,  for  he  was  neither  so  sociably  inclined 
nor  so  frequently  hungry  as  was  his  companion. 
He  strode  along  the  road,  not  caring  much 
where  it  led  him.  Everyone  he  met  gave  him 
"  Good-day,"  after  the  friendly  custom  of  the 
country.  Those  with  wagons  or  lighter  vehi- 
cles going  in  his  direction  usually  offered  him 
a  ride,  and  went  on,  wondering  that  a  man 
should  choose  to  walk  when  it  was  not  com- 
pulsory. The  professor,  like  most  silent  men, 
found  himself  good  company,  and  did  not  feel 
the  need  of  companionship  in  his  walks.  He 
had  felt  relieved  rather  than  disappointed 
when  Yates  refused  to  accompany  him.  And 
Yates,  swinging  drowsily  in  his  hammock,  was 
no  less  gratified.  Even  where  men  are  firm 
and  intimate  friends,  the  first  few  days  of  camp- 
ing out  together  is  a  severe  strain  on  their 
regard  for  each  other.  If  Damon  and  Pythias 
had  occupied  a  tent  together  for  a  week,  the 
worst  enemy  of  either,  or  both,  might  at  the  end 
of  that  time  have  ventured  into  the  camp  in 
safety,  and  would  have  been  welcome. 

Renmark  thought  of  these  things  as  he 
walked  along.  His  few  days'  intimacy  with 
Yates  had  shown  him  how  far  apart  they  had 
managed  to  get  by  following  paths  that  di- 
verged more  and  moi  2  widely  the  farther  they 
were  trodden.     The  friendship  of  their  youth 


I 


xoa 


•ffn  tbe  flS1^0t  of  Blarma, 


103 


had  turned  out  to  be  merely  ephemeral. 
Neither  would  now  choose  the  other  as  an  inti- 
mate associate.     Another  illusion  had  gone. 

"  I  have  surely  enough  self-control,"  said 
Renmark  to  himself,  as  he  walked  on,  "to 
stand  his  shallow  flippancy  for  another  week, 
and  not  let  him  see  what  I  think  of  him." 

Yates  at  the  sam**  time  was  thoroughly  enjoy- 
ing the  peaceful  silence  of  the  camp.  "  That 
man  is  an  exaggerated  schoolmaster,  with  all 
the  faults  of  the  species  abnormally  developed. 
If  I  once  open  out  on  him,  he  will  learn  more 
truth  about  himself  in  ten  minutes  than  he  ever 
heard  in  his  life  before.  What  an  unbearable 
prig  he  has  grown  to  be.'  Thus  ran  Yates' 
thoughts  as  he  swung  in  his  hammock,  looking 
up  at  the  ceiling  of  green  leaves. 

Nevertheless,  the  case  was  not  so  bad  as 
either  of  them  thought.  If  it  had  been,  then 
were  marriage  not  only  a  failure,  but  a  practical 
impossibility.  If  two  men  can  get  over  the  first 
few  days  in  camp  without  a  quarrel,  life  be- 
comes easier,  and  the  tension  relaxes. 

Renmark,  as  he  polished  off  his  ten  miles, 
paid  little  heed  to  those  he  met ;  but  one  driver 
drew  up  his  horse  and  accosted  him.. 

"  Good-day,"  he  said.  "  How  are  you  get- 
ting on  m  the  tent  ?  " 

The  professor  was  surprised  at  the  question. 
Had  their  tenting-out  eccentricity  gone  all  over 
the  country?  He  was  not  a  quick  man  at  rec- 
ognizing people,  belonging,  as  he  did,  to  the 
"  I  -  remember-your-face-but-can't-recall-your- 
name  "  fraternity.  It  had  been  said  of  him 
that  he  never,  at  any  one  time,  knew  the  names 
of  more  than  half  a  dozen  students  in  his  class  ; 
but  this  was  an  undergraduate  libel  on  hini. 
The  young  man  who  had  accosted  liim  was  driv- 
ing a  single  horse,  attached  to  what  he  termed 
a  "  democrat  " — a  four-wheeled   light  wagon, 


•  \ 


1 


i  \ 


a    I 


104 


ITn  tbe  ^f^st  of  Blarms. 


not  so  slim  and  elegant  as  a  buggy,  nor  so 
heavy  and  clumsy  as  a  wagon.  Renmark 
looked  up  at  the  driver  with  confused  unrecog- 
nition,  troubled  because  he  vaguely  felt  that  he 
had  met  him  somewhere  before.  But  his  sur- 
prise at  being  addressed  speedily  changed  into 
amazement  as  he  looked  from  the  driver  to  the 
load.  The  "  democrat "  was  heaped  with 
books.  The  larger  volumes  were  stuck  along 
the  sides  with  some  regularity,  and  in  this  way 
kept  the  miscellaneous  pile  from  being  shaken 
out  on  the  road.  His  eye  glittered  with  a  new 
interest  as  it  rested  on  the  many-colored  bind- 
ings ;  and  he  recognized  in  the  pile  the  peculiar 
brown  covers  of  the  "  Bohn  "  edition  of  classic 
translations,  that  were  scattered  like  so  many 
turnips  over  the  top  of  this  ridge  of  literature. 
He  rubbed  his  eyes  to  make  sure  he  was  not 
dreaming.  How  came  a  farmer's  boy  to  be 
driving  a  wagon  load  of  books  in  the  wilds  of 
the  country  as  nonchalantly  as  if  they  were  so 
many  bushels  of  potatoes? 

The  young  driver,  who  had  stopped  his  horse, 
for  the  load  was  heavy  and  the  sand  was  deep, 
saw  that  the  stranger  not  only  did  not  recog- 
nize him,  but  that  from  the  moment  he  saw  the 
books  he  had  forgotten  everything  else.  It  was 
evidently  necessary  to  speak  agaii;. 

"  If  you  are  coming  back,  will  you  have  a 
ride  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I — I  think  I  will,"  said  the  professor,  de- 
scending to  earth  again  and  climbing  up  beside 
the  boy. 

"  I  see  you  don't  remember  me,"  said  the 
latter,  starting  his  horse  again.  "  My  name  is 
Howard.  I  passed  you  in  my  buggy  when  you 
were  coming  in  with  your  teni  that  day  on  the 
Ridge.  Your  partner — what's  his  name — 
Yates,  isn't  it? — had  dinner  at  our  house  the 
other  day," 


•ffn  the  Ubitfet  of  Blarms. 


105 


"  Ah,  yes.  I  recollect  you  now.  I  thought 
I  had  seen  you  before  ;  but  it  was  only  for  a 
moment,  you  know.  I  have  a  very  poor 
memory  so  far  as  people  are  concerned.  It 
has  always  been  a  failine^  of  mine.  Are  these 
your  books  ?  And  how  do  you  happen  to  have 
such  a  quantity  ?  " 

"  Oil,  this  is  the  library,"  said  young  Howard. 

"  The  library  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  township  library,  you  know." 

"Oil!  The  township  has  a  library,  then.? 
I  didn't  know." 

"  Well,  it's  part  of  it.  This  is  a  fifth  part. 
You  know  about  township  libraries,  don't  you  ? 
Your  partner  said  you  were  a  college  man." 

Ren  mark  blushed  at  his  own  ignorance,  but 
he  was  never  reluctant  to  admit  it. 

"  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  confess  it,  but  I 
know  nothing  of  township  libraries.  Please 
tell  me  about  them." 

Young  Howard  was  eager  to  give  information 
to  a  college  man,  especially  on  the  subject  of 
books,  which  he  regarded  as  belonging  to  the 
province  of  college-bred  men.  He  was  pleased 
also  to  discover  that  city  people  did  not  know 
everything.  He  had  long  had  the  idea  that 
they  did,  and  this  belief  had  been  annoyingly 
corroborated  by  the  cocksureness  of  Yates. 
The  professor  evidently  was  a  decent  fellow, 
who  did  not  pretend  to  universal  knowledge. 
This  was  encouraging.  He  liked  Renmark 
better  than  Yates,  and  was  glad  he  had  offered 
him  a  ride,  although,  of  course,  that  was  the 
custom  ;  still,  a  person  with  one  horse  and  a 
heavy  load  is  exempt  on  a  sandy  road. 

"Well,  you  see,"  he  said  in  explanation, 
"it's  like  this:  The  township  votes  a  sum  of 
money,  say  a  hundred  dollars,  or  two  hundred, 
as  the  case  may  be.  They  give  notice  to  the 
Government  of  the  amount  voted,  and  the  Gov- 


1 


i) 


I 

I 


II 


io6 


irn  tbe  flblOst  of  Blarms, 


ernment  adds  the  same  amount  to  the  township 
money.  It's  like  the  old  game  :  you  think  of  a 
number,  and  they  double  it.  The  Government 
has  a  depository  of  books,  in  Toronto,  I  think, 
and  they  sell  them  cheaper  than  the  book- 
stores do.  At  any  rate,  the  four  hundred  dol- 
lars' worth  are  bought,  or  whatever  the  amount 
is,  and  the  books  are  the  property  of  the  town- 
ship. Five  persons  are  picked  out  in  the  town- 
ship as  librarians,  and  they  have  to  give 
security.  My  father  is  librarian  for  this  section. 
The  library  is  divided  into  five  parts,  and  each 
librarian  gets  a  share.  Once  a  year  I  go  to  the 
next  section  and  get  all  their  books.  They  go 
to  the  next  section,  again,  and  get  all  the  books 
at  that  place.  A  man  comes  to  our  house  to- 
day and  takes  all  we  have.  So  we  get  a  com- 
plete change  every  year,  and  in  five  years  we 
get  back  the  first  batch,  which  by  that  time  we 
have  forgotten  all  about.  To-day  is  changing 
day  all  around." 

"  And  the  books  are  lent  to  any  person  in 
each  section  who  wishes  to  read  them  ?  "  asked 
the  professor. 

"  Yes.  Margaret  keeps  a  record,  and  a  per- 
son can  have  a  book  out  for  two  weeks  ;  after 
that  time  there  is  a  fine,  but  Margaret  never 
fines  anyone." 

"  And  tio  people  have  to  pay  to  take  out  the 
books }  " 

"  Not  likely !  "  said  Howard  with  fine  con- 
tempt. •'  You  wouldn't  expect  people  to  pay 
for  reading  books  ;  would  you,  now  ?  " 

•*  No,  I  suppose  not.  And  who  selected  the 
volumes  ?  " 

"  Well,  the  township  can  select  the  books  if 
it  likes,  or  it  can  send  a  committee  to  select 
them  ;  but  they  didn't  think  it  worth  the  trouble 
and  expense.  People  grumbled  enough  at 
wasting  money  on  books  as  it  was,  even  if  they 


Un  tbe  ifbi^et  of  2llarm0» 


107 


at 
ey 


did  buy  them  at  half  price.  Still,  others  said  it 
was  a  pity  not  to  get  the  money  out  of  the 
Government  when  they  had  the  chance.  I 
don't  believe  any  of  them  cared  very  much 
about  the  books,  except  father  and  a  few  others. 
So  the  Government  chose  the  books.  They'll 
do  that  if  you  leave  it  to  them.  And  a  queer 
lot  of  trash  they  sent,  if  you  take  my  word  for 
it.  I  believe  they  shoved  off  on  us  all  the 
things  no  on  else  would  buy.  Even  when  they 
did  pick  out  novels,  they  were  just  as  tough  as 
the  history  books.  '  Adam  Bede  '  is  one.  They 
say  that's  a  novel.  I  tried  it,  but  I  would  rather 
read  the  history  of  Josephus  any  day.  There's 
some  fighting  in  that,  if  it  is  a  history.  Then 
there's  any  amount  of  biography  books.  They're 
no  good.  There's  a  '  History  of  Napoleon.' 
Old  Bartlett's  got  that,  and  he  won't  give  it  up. 
He  says  he  was  taxed  for  the  library  against  his 
will.  He  dares  them  to  go  to  law  about  it,  and 
it  aint  worth  while  for  one  book.  The  other 
sections  are  all  asking  for  that  book ;  not  that 
they  want  it,  but  the  whole  country  knows  that 
old  Bartlett's  a-holdingon  toil,  so  they'd  like  to 
see  some  fun.  Bartlett's  read  that  book  four- 
teen times,  and  it's  all  he  k  lows.  I  tell  Mar- 
garet she  ought  to  fine  him,  and  keep  on  fining, 
but  she  won't  do  it.  I  guess  Bartlett  thinks  the 
book  belongs  to  him  by  this  time.  Margaret 
likes  Kitty  and  Mrs.  Bartlett, — so  does  every- 
body,— but  old  Bartlett's  a  seed.  There  he 
sits  now  on  his  veranda,  and  it's  a  wonder  he's 
not  reading  the  '  History  of  Napoleon.'  " 

They  were  passing  the  Bartlett  house,  and 
young  Howard  raised  his  voice  and  called  out  : 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Bartlett,  we  want  that  Napoleon 
book.  This  is  changing  day,  you  know. 
Shall  I  come  up  for  it,  or  will  you  bring  it 
down  ?  If  you  fetch  it  to  the  gate,  I'll  cart  it 
home  now." 


io8 


irn  tbe  ^l&et  ot  Blarme. 


lii 


'I 


The  old  man  paid  no  heed  to  what  was  said 
to  him ;  but  Mrs.  Bartlett,  attracted  by  the  out- 
cry, came  to  the  door. 

"  You  go  along  with  your  books,  you  young 
rai: cal ! "  she  cried,  coming  down  to  the  gate 
when  she  saw  the  professor.  "  That's  a  nice 
way  to  carry  bound  books,  as  if  they  were  a  lot 
of  bricks.  I'll  warrant  you  have  lost  a  dozen 
between  Mallory's  and  here.  But  easy  come, 
easy  go.  It's  plain  to  be  seen  they  didn't  cost 
you  anything.  I  don't  know  what  the  world's 
a-coming  to  when  the  township  spends  its 
money  in  books,  as  if  taxes  weren't  heavy 
enough  already.  Won't  you  come  in,  Mr. 
Renmark?     Tea's  on  the  table." 

"  Mr.  Renmark's  coming  with  me  this  trip, 
Mrs.  Bartlett,"  young  Howard  said  before  the 
professor  had  time  to  reply;  "but  I'll  come 
over  and  take  tea,  if  you'll  invite  me,  as  soon  as 
I  have  put  the  horse  up." 

"  You  go  along  with  your  nonsense,"  she 
said  ;  "  I  know  you."  Then  in  a  lower  voice 
she  asked  :  "  How  is  your  mother,  Henry — and 
Margaret?  " 

•'  They're  pretty  well,  thanks." 

"Tell  them  I'm  going  to  run  over  to  see 
them  some  day  soon,  but  that  need  not  keep 
them  from  coming  to  see  me.  The  old  man's 
going  to  town  to-morrow,"  and  with  this  hint, 
after  again  inviting  the  professor  to  a  meal,  she 
departed  up  the  path  to  the  house. 

"  I  think  I'll  get  down  here,"  said  Renmark, 
halfway  between  the  two  houses.  "  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  for  the  ride,  and  also  for 
what  you  told  me  about  the  books.  It  was 
very  interesting." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  young  Howard  ;  "  I'm 
not  going  to  let  you  do  anything  of  the  sort. 
You're  coming  home  with  me.  You  want  to 
see  the    books,  don't  you  ?    Very  well,  then, 


■fi 


•ffn  tbc  /HbiDat  of  Blarme. 


109 


come  along 


Margaret  is  always  impatient  on 
changing  clay,  she's  so  anxious  to  see  the  books, 
and  father  generally  comes  in  early  from  the 
fields  for  the  same  reason." 

As  they  approached  tlie  Howard  homestead 
they  noticed  Margaret  waiting  for  them  at  the 
gate  ;  but  when  the  girl  saw  that  a  stranger  was 
in  the  wagon,  she  turned  and  walked  into  the 
house.  Renmark,  seeing  this  retreat,  regretted 
lie  had  not  accepted  Mrs.  Bartlett's  invitation. 
He  was  a  sensitive  man,  and  did  not  realize  that 
others  were  sometimes  as  shy  as  himself.  He 
felt  he  was  intruding,  and  that  at  a  sacred 
moment — the  moment  of  the  arrival  of  the 
library.  He  was  such  a  lover  of  books,  and 
valued  so  highly  the  privilege  of  being  alone 
with  them,  that  he  fancied  he  saw  in  the  abrupt 
departure  of  Margaret  the  same  feeling  of 
resentment  he  would  himself  have  experienced 
if  a  visitor  had  encroached  upon  him  in  his 
favorite  nook  in  the  fine  room  that  held  the 
library  of  the  university. 

When  the  wagon  stopped  in  the  lane,  Ren- 
mark said  hesitatingly  : 

"  I  think  I'll  not  stay,  if  you  don't  mind.  My 
friend  .s  waiting  for  me  at  the  camp,  and  will 
be  wondering  what  has  become  of  me." 

"Who.f*  Yates?  Let  him  wonder.  I  guess 
he  never  bothers  about  anybody  else  as  long  as 
he  is  comfortable  himself.  That's  how  I  sized 
him  up,  at  any  rate.  Besides,  you're  never  go- 
ing back  on  carrying  in  the  books,  are  you  .''  I 
counted  on  your  help.  I  don't  want  to  do  it, 
and  it  don't  seem  the  square  thing  to  let  Mar- 
garet do  it  all  alone  ;  does  it,  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  1  can  be  of  any  assistance,  I 
shall " 

"Of  course  you  can.  Besides,  I  know  my 
father  wants  to  see  you,  anyhow.  Don't  you, 
father?" 


1X0 


•ffn  tbc  jfflbiD0t  of  Blarm0. 


i  I 


The  old  man  was  coming  round  from  the 
back  of  the  house  to  meet  them. 

"  Don't  I  what  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  said  you  wanted  to  see  Professor  Ren- 
mark  when  Margaret  told  you  what  Yates  had 
said  to  her  about  him." 

Renmark  reddened  slightly  at  finding  so 
many  people  had  made  him  the  subject  of  con- 
versation, rather  suspecting  at  the  same  time 
that  the  boy  was  making  fun  of  him.  Mr. 
Howard  cordially  held  out  his  hand. 

"So  this  is  Professor  Renmark,  is  it?  I  am 
very  pleased  to  see  you.  Yes,  as  Henry  was 
saying,  I  have  been  wanting  to  see  you  ever 
since  my  daughter  spoke  of  you.  I  suppose 
Henry  told  you  that  his  brother  is  a  pupil  of 
yours"  ■■ 


son  ?  "  cried 
"  I   did   not 


"  Oh !  is  Arthur  Howard  your 
Renmark,  warming  up  at  once, 
know  it.  There  are  many  young  men  at  the 
college,  and  I  have  but  the  vaguest  idea  from 
what  parts  of  the  country  they  all  come.  A 
teacher  should  have  no  favorites,  but  I  must 
confess  to  a  strong  liking  for  your  son.  He  is 
a  good  boy,  which  cannot  be  said  about  every 
member  of  my  class." 

"  Arthur  was  always  studious,  so  we  thought 
we  would  give  him  a  chance.  I  am  glad  to 
hear  he  behaves  himself  in  the  city.  Farming 
is  hard  work,  and  I  hops  my  boys  will  have  an 
easier  time  than  I  had.  But  come  in,  come  in. 
The  missus  and  Margaret  will  be  glad  to  see 
you,  and  hear  how  the  boy  is  coming  on  with 
his  studies." 

So  they  went  in  together. 


the 


Ren- 
1  had 


g    so 

[  con- 

;  time 

Mr. 

I  am 

y  was 
i  ever 
appose 
upil  of 

'  cried 
iid   not 
at  the 
a  from 
me.     A 
1  must 
He  is 
it  every 

hought 
glad  to 
arming 
lave  an 
ome  in. 
to  see 
on  with 


CHAPTER   X. 

"Hello!  Hello,  there!  Wake  up!  Break- 
fa-a-a-st !  I  thought  that  would  fetch  you. 
Gosh  !  I  wish  I  had  your  job  at  a  dollar  a 
day !  " 

Yates  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  sat  up  in  the 
hammock.  At  first  he  thought  the  forest  was 
tumbling  down  about  his  ears,  but  as  he  col- 
lected his  wits  he  saw  that  it  was  only  young 
Bartlett  who  had  come  crashing  through  the 
woods  on  the  back  of  one  horse,  while  he  led 
another  by  a  strsp  attached  to  a  halter.  The 
echo  of  his  hearty  yell  still  resounded  in  the 
depths  of  the  woods,  and  rang  in  Yates'  ears  as 
he  pulled  himself  together. 

''  Did  you — ah — make  any  remarks  ?  "  asked 
Yates  quietly. 

The  boy  admired  his  gift  of  never  showing 
surprise. 

"  I  say,  don't  you  know  that  it's  not  healthy 
to  go  to  sleep  in  the  middle  of  the  day  ?  " 

"  Is  it  the  middle  of  the  day  .'*  I  thought  it 
was  later.  I  guess  I  can  stand  it,  if  the  middle 
of  the  day  can.  I've  a  strong  constitution. 
Now,  what  do  you  mean  by  dashing  up  on  two 
horses  into  a  man's  bedroom  in  that  reckless 
fashion  ?  " 

The  boy  laughed. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  like  a  ride. 
I  knew  you  were  alone,  for  J  saw  the  professor 
go  mooning  up  the  road  a  liitle  while  ago." 

"  Oh  !    Where  was  he  going  ?" 


XXI 


VM.I 


112 


■ffn  tbe  jflBl&0t  ot  Blarms* 


J  : 


^1 


"  Hanged  if  I  know,  and  he  didn't  look  as  if 
he  knew  himself.     He's  a  queer  fish,  aint  he  ?  " 

"  He  is.  Everybody  can't  be  as  sensible  and 
handsome  as  we  are,  you  know.  Where  are 
you  going  with  those  horses,  young  man  ?  " 

"  "To  get  them  shod.  Won't  you  come  along? 
You  can  ride  the  horse  I'm  on.  Its  got  a  bridle. 
I'll  ride  the  one  with  the  halter." 

"  How  far  away  is  the  blacksmith's  shop?" 

"Oh,  a  couple  of  miles  or  so;  down  at  the 
Cross  Roads." 

"  Well,"  said  Yates,  "  there's  merit  in  the 
idea.  I  take  it  your  generous  offer  is  made  in 
good  faith,  and  not  necessarily  for  publication." 

"  I  don't  understand.     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  concealed  joke,  is  there  ?  No 
getting  me  on  the  back  of  one  of  those  brutes 
to  make  a  public  exhibition  of  me?  Do  they 
bite  or  kick  or  buck,  or  playfully  roll  over  a 
person  ?  " 

"  No,"  cried  young  Bartlett  indignantly. 
"  This  is  no  circus.  Why,  a  baby  could  ride 
this  horse." 

"  Well,  that's  about  the  style  of  horse  I  prefer. 
You  see,  I'm  a  trifle  out  of  practice.  I  never 
rode  anything  more  spirited  than  a  street  car, 
and  I  haven't  been  on  one  of  them  for  a  week." 

"  Oh,  you  can  ride  all  right.  I  guess  you 
could  do  most  things  you  set  your  mind  to." 

Yates  was  flattered  by  this  evidently  sincere 
tribute  to  his  capacity,  so  he  got  out  of  the 
hammock.  The  boy,  who  had  been  sitting  on 
the  horse  with  both  feet  on  one  side,  now 
straightened  his  back  and  slipped  to  the  ground. 

"  Wait  till  I  throw  down  the  fence,"  he  said. 

Yates  mounted  with  some  difficulty,  and  the 
two  went  trotting  down  the  road.  He  managed 
to  hold  his  place  with  some  little  uncertainty, 
but  the  joggling  up  and  dov^'n  worried  him. 
He  never  seemed  to  alight  in  quite  the  same 


& 


:  as  if 

he?" 
le  and 
re  are 
>  " 

ilong? 
bridle. 


•ffn  tbe  Ifbi^Bt  of  alarms. 


113 


hop?" 

"^r 

at  the 

y. 

in  the 

f 

lade  in 

ation." 

lean  ? 

i 

;?     No 

) 

i 

brutes 

j 

)o  they 

1 

over  a 

i 

I 

gnantly. 

Lild  ride 

I  prefer. 

1  never 

reet  car, 

a  weel<." 

ess  you 

d  to." 

y  sincere 

it  of  the 

i 

lilting  on 

i 

^ 

de,   now 

\ 

e  ground. 

"5 

'  he  said. 

,  and  the 

managed 

certainty, 

ried   him. 

the  same 

place  on  the  horse's  back,  and  this  gave  an 
element  of  chance  to  his  position  which  em- 
barrassed him.  He  expected  to  come  down 
some  time  and  find  the  horse  wasn't  there. 
The  boy  laughed  at  his  riding,  but  Yates  was 
too  much  engaged  in  keeping  his  position  to 
mind  that  very  much. 

"  D-d-dirt  is  s-s-said  to  b-b-be  matter  out 
of  place,  and  that's  what's  the  m-m-mat-matter 
w-vv-with  me."  His  conversation  seemed  to 
be  shaken  out  of  him  by  the  trotting  of  the 
horse.  "  I  say,  Bartlett,  1  can't  stand  this  any 
longer.     I'd  rather  walk." 

"  You're  all  right,"  said  the  boy  ;  "  we'll  make 
him  canter." 

He  struck  the  horse  over  the  flank  with  the 
loose  end  of  the  halter  rein. 

"  Here  !  "  shouted  Yates,  letting  go  the  bridle 
and  grasping  the  mane.  "  Don't  make  him  go 
faster,  you  young  fiend.  I'll  murder  you  when 
I  get  off — and  that  will  be  soon." 

"  You're  all  right,"  repeated  young  Bartlett, 
and,  much  to  his  astonishment,  Yates  found  it 
to  be  so.  When  the  horse  broke  into  a  canter, 
Yates  thought  the  motion  as  easy  as  swinging 
in  a  hammock,  and  as  soothing  as  a  rocking 
chair. 

"  This  is  an  improvement.  But  we've  got  to 
keep  it  up,  for  if  this  brute  suddenly  changes  to 
a  trot,  I'm  done  for." 

"  We'll  keep  it  up  until  we  come  in  sight  of 
the  Corners,  then  we'll  slow  down  to  a  walk. 
There's  sure  to  be  a  lot  of  fellows  at  the  black- 
smith's shop,  so  we'll  come  in  on  them  easy 
like." 

"  You're  a  good  fellow,  Bartlett,"  said  Yates. 
"  I  suspected  you  of  tricks  at  first.  I'm  afraid, 
if  I  had  got  another  chap  in  such  a  fix,  I  wouldn't 
have  let  him  off  as  easily  as  you  have  me.  The 
temptation  would  have  been  too  great." 


' 


114 


"ITn  tbc  ^fD0t  of  Blarme. 


I 


►;    ; 


h 


When  they  reached  the  blacksmith's  shop  at 
the  Corners,  they  found  four  horses  in  the 
building  aiiead  of  them.  Bartlett  tied  his  team 
outside,  and  then,  with  his  comrade,  entered 
the  wide  doorway  of  the  smithy.  The  shop  was 
built  of  rough  boards,  and  the  inside  was 
blackened  with  soot.  It  was  not  well  lighted, 
the  two  windows  being  obscured  with  much 
smoke,  so  that  they  were  useless  as  far  as  their 
original  purpose  was  concerned  ;  but  the  door- 
way, as  wide  as  that  of  a  barn,  allowed  all  the 
light  to  come  in  that  the  smith  needed  for  his 
work.  At  the  far  end  and  darkest  corner  of 
the  place  stood  the  forge,  with  the  large  bellows 
behind  it,  concealed,  for  the  most  part,  by  the 
chimney.  The  forge  was  perhaps  six  feet 
square  and  three  or  four  feet  high,  built  of  plank 
and  filled  in  with  earth.  The  top  was  covered 
with  cinders  and  coal,  while  in  the  center 
glowed  the  red  core  of  the  fire,  with  blue  flames 
hovering  over  it.  The  man  who  worked  the 
bellows  chewed  tobacco,  and  now  and  then 
projected  the  juice  with  deadly  accuracy  right 
into  the  center  of  the  fire,  where  it  made  a 
momentary  hiss  and  dark  spot.  All  the  fre- 
quenters of  the  smithy  admired  Sandy's  skill  in 
expectoration,  and  many  tried  in  vain  to  emulate 
it.  The  envious  said  it  was  due  to  the  peculiar 
formation  of  his  front  teeth,  the  upper  row 
being  prominent,  and  the  two  middle  teeth  set 
far  apart,  as  if  one  were  missing.  But  this  was 
jealousy  ;  Sandy's  perfection  in  the  art  was  due 
to  no  favoritism  of  nature,  but  to  constant  and 
long-continued  practice.  Occasionally  with  his 
callous  right  hand,  never  removing  his  left  from 
the  lever,  Sandy  pulled  an  iron  bar  out  of  the 
fire  and  examined  it  critically.  The  incan- 
descent end  of  the  bar  radiated  a  blinding  white 
light  when  it  was  gently  withdrawn,  and  illumi- 
nated the  man's  head,  making  his  beardless  face 


1    '  .  fe 

.! 


•ffn  tbc  /ist^st  of  Blarma. 


"5 


look,  against  its  dark  background,  like  the 
smudged  countenance  of  some  cynical  demon 
glowing  with  a  tire  from  within.  The  end  of 
the  bar  which  he  held  must  have  been  very 
hot  to  an  ordinary  mortal,  as  everyone  in  the 
shop  knew,  all  of  them,  at  their  initiation  to  the 
country  club,  having  been  handed  a  black  piece 
of  iron  from  Sandy's  hand,  which  he  held  un- 
flinchingly, but  which  the  iimocent  receiver 
usually  dropped  with  a  yell.  This  was  Sandy's 
favorite  joke,  and  made  life  worth  living  for  him. 
It  was  perhaps  not  so  good  as  the  blacksmith's 
own  bit  of  humor,  but  public  opinion  was 
divided  on  that  point.  Every  great  man  has 
his  own  particular  set  of  admirers  ;  and  there 
were  some  who  said,— under  their  breaths,  of 
course, — that  Sandy  could  turn  a  horseshoe  as 
well  as  Macdonald  himself.  Experts,  however, 
while  admitting  Sandy's  general  genius,  did  not 
go  so  far  as  this. 

About  half  a  dozen  members  of  the  club  were 
present,  and  most  of  them  stood  leaning  against 
something  with  hands  deep  in  their  trousers 
pockets  ;  one  was  sitting  on  the  blacksmith's 
bench,  with  his  legs  dangling  down.  On  the 
bench  tools  were  scattered  around  so  thickly 
that  he  had  had  to  clear  a  place  before  he  could 
sit  down  ;  the  taking  of  this  liberty  proved  the 
man  to  be  an  old  and  privileged  member.  He 
sat  there  whittling  a  stick,  aimlessly  bringing  it 
to  a  fine  point,  examining  it  frequently  with  a 
or"  'cal  air,  as  if  he  were  engaged  in  some  deli- 
cate operation  which  required  great  discrimina- 
tion. 

The  blacksmith  himself  stooped  with  his  back 
to  one  of  the  horses,  the  hind  hoof  of  the 
animal,  between  his  knees,  resting  on  his 
leathern  apron.  The  horse  was  restive,  looking 
over  its  shoulder  at  him,  not  liking  what  was 
going  on.     Macdonald  swore  at  it  fluently,  and 


ii6 


•ffn  tbc  ^(&0t  of  Blarms. 


"i  , 


requested  it  to  stand  still,  holding  the  foot  as 
firmly  as  if  it  were  in  his  own  iron  vise,  which 
was  fixed  to  the  table  near  the  whittler.  With 
his  right  hand  lie  held  a  hot  horseshoe,  attached 
to  an  iron  punch  that  had  been  driven  into  one 
of  the  nail  holes,  and  this  he  pressed  against 
the  upraised  hoof,  as  though  sealing  a  docu- 
ment with  a  gigantic  seal.  Smoke  and  flame 
arose  from  the  contact  of  the  hot  iron  with  the 
hoof,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  the  not 
unpleasant  odor  of  burning  horn.  The  smith's 
tool  box,  with  hammer,  pinchers,  and  nails,  lay 
on  the  earthern  floor  within  easy  reach.  The 
sweat  poured  from  his  grimy  brow;  for  it  was 
a  hot  job,  and  Macdonald  was  in  the  habit  of 
making  the  most  of  his  work.  He  was  called 
the  hardest  working  man  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  and  he  was  proud  of  the  designation. 
He  was  a  standing  reproach  to  the  loafers  who 
frequented  his  shop,  and  that  fact  gave  him 
pleasure  in  their  company.  Besides,  a  man 
must  have  an  audience  when  he  is  an  expert  in 
swearing.  Macdonald's  profanity  was  largely 
automatic, — a  natural  gift,  as  it  were, — and  he 
meant  nothing  wrong  by  it.  In  fact,  when  you 
got  him  fighting  angry,  he  always  forgot  to 
swear ;  but  in  his  calm  moments  oaths  rolled 
easily  and  picturesquely  from  his  lips,  and  gave 
fluency  to  his  conversation.  Macdonald  en- 
joyed the  reputation  round  about  of  being  a 
wicked  man,  which  he  was  not;  his  language 
was  against  him,  that  was  all.  This  reputation 
had  a  misty  halo  thrown  around  it  by  Mac- 
donald's unknown  doings  "  down  East,"  from 
which  mystical  region  he  had  come.  No  one 
knew  just  what  Macdonald  had  done,  but  it  was 
admitted  on  all  sides  that  he  must  have  had 
some  terrible  experiences,  although  he  was  still 
a  young  man  and  unmarried.  He  used  to  say  : 
"  When  you  have  come  through  what  I  have, 


^^ 


Ifii  tbc  /IbiDdt  ot  Blarnid. 


117 


you  won't  be  so  ready  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  a 
man." 

This  must  have  meant  something  significant, 
but  the  blacksmith  never  took  anyone  into  his 
confidence  ;  and  "  down  East  "  is  a  vague  place, 
a  sort  of  indefinite,  unlocalized  no-nian's-land, 
situated  anywhere  between  Toronto  and  Que- 
bec. Almost  anything  might  have  hapj)enpd 
in  such  a  space  of  country.  Macdonald's  favor- 
ite way  of  crushing  an  opponent  was  to  say  : 
"  Wlien  you've  had  some  of  my  experiences, 
young  man,  you'll  know  better'n  to  talk  like 
that."  All  this  gave  a  certain  fascination  to 
friendship  with  the  blacksmith  ;  and  the  farmers' 
boys  felt  that  they  were  playing  with  fire  when 
in  his  company,  getting,  as  it  were,  a  glimpse 
of  the  dangerous  side  of  life.  As  for  work,  the 
blacksmith  reveled  in  it,  and  made  it  practi- 
cally his  only  vice.  He  did  everything  with  full 
steam  on,  and  was,  as  has  been  said,  a  constant 
reproach  to  loafers  all  over  the  country.  When 
there  was  no  work  to  do,  he  made  work. 
When  there  was  work  to  do,  he  did  it  with  a 
rush,  sweeping  the  sweat  from  his  grimy  brow 
with  his  hooked  fore  finger,  and  fleckinr/-  it  to 
the  floor  with  a  flirt  of  the  right  hand,  loose  on 
the  wrist,  in  a  way  that  made  his  thumb  and 
fore  finger  snap  together  like  the  crack  of  a  whip. 
This  action  was  always  accompanied  with  a 
long-drawn  breath,  almost  a  sigh,  that  seemed 
to  say :  "  I  wish  I  had  the  easy  times  you  fel- 
lows have."  In  fact,  since  he  came  to  the 
neighborhood  the  current  phrase,  "  He  works 
like  a  steer,"  had  given  way  to,  "  He  works  like 
Macdonald,"  except  with  the  older  people,  who 
finr  t  hard  to  change  phrases.  Yet  everyone 
likeu  the  blacksmith,  and  took  no  special  of- 
fense at  his  untiring  industry,  looking  at  it 
rather  as  an  example  to  others. 

He  did  not  look  up  as  the  two  newcomers 


?•' 


Ii8 


irn  tbe  /IbiDat  ot  Blarma, 


I' '  i 


^i^ 


I 


entered,  but  industriously  pared  down  the  hoof 
with  a  curiously  formed  knife  turned  like  a 
hook  at  the  point,  burned  in  the  shoe  to  its 
place,  nailed  it  on,  and  rasped  the  hoof  into 
shape  with  a  long,  broad  file.  Not  til)  he  let 
the  foot  drop  on  the  earthen  floor,  and  slapped 
the  impatient  horse  on  the  flank,  did  he  deign 
to  answer  young  Bartlett's  inquiry. 

"  No,"  he  said,  wringing  the  perspiration 
from  his  forehead,  "  all  these  horses  aint  ahead 
of  you,  and  you  won't  need  to  come  next  week. 
That's  the  last  hoof  of  the  last  horse.  No  man 
needs  to  come  to  my  shop  and  go  away  again, 
while  the  breath  of  life  is  left  in  me.  And  I 
don't  do  it,  either,  by  sitting  on  a  bench  and 
whittling  a  stick." 

"  That's  so.  That's  so,"  said  Sandy,  chuc- 
kling, in  the  admiring  tone  of  one  who  inti- 
mated that,  when  the  boss  spoke,  wisdom  was 
uttered.     "  That's  one  on  you,  Sam." 

*'  I  guess  I  can  stand  it,  if  he  can,"  said  the 
whittler  from  the  bench  ;  which  was  considered 
fair  repartee. 

"Sit  it,  you  mean,"  said  young  Bartlett, 
laughing  with  the  others  at  his  own  joke. 

"  But,"  said  the  blacksmith  severely,  "  we're 
out  of  shoes,  and  you'll  have  to  wait  till  we  turn 
some,  that  is,  if  you  don't  want  the  old  ones  re- 
set.    Are  they  good  enough  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so,  if  you  can  ind  'em  ;  but  they're 
out  in  the  fields.  Didn't  think  I'd  bring  the 
horses  in  while  they  held  on,  did  you  ?  "  Then, 
suddenly  remembering  his  duties,  he  said  by 
way  of  general  introduction  :  "  Gentlemen,  this 
is  my  friend  Mr.  Yates  from  New  York." 

The  name  seemed  to  fall  like  a  wet  blanket 
on  the  high  spirits  of  the  crowd.  They  had 
imagined  from  the  cut  of  his  clothes  that  he 
was  a  storekeeper  from  some  village  around, 
or   an  auctioneer  from  a  distance,  these  two 


■I 


Uri  tbe  ^(J)0t  of  Blarms. 


119 


occupations  being  the  highest  social  position  to 
which  a  man  niight  attain.  They  were  pre- 
pared to  hear  that  he  was  from  Welland,  or 
perhaps  St.  Catherines ;  but  New  York  !  tiiat 
was  a  crusher.  Macdonald,  however,  was  not 
a  man  to  be  put  down  in  his  own  shop  and  be- 
fore his  own  athiiirers.  He  was  not  going  to 
let  his  prestige  shp  from  him  merely  because  a 
man  frMU  New  York  had  happened  along.  He 
could  not  claim  to  know  the  city,  for  the 
stranger  would  quickly  detect  the  imposture,  and 
probal)ly  expose  him  ;  but  the  slightly  superior 
air  which  Yates  wore  irritated  him,  while  it 
abashed  the  others.     Even  Sandy  was  silent. 

•*  I've  met  some  people  from  New  York  down 
East,"  he  said  in  an  offhand  manner,  as  if, 
after  all,  a  man  might  meet  a  New  Yorker  and 
still  not  sink  into  the  ground. 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Yates.  "  I  hope  you  liked 
them." 

'*  Oh,  so-so,"  replied  the  blacksmith  airily. 
"  There's  good  and  bad  among  them,  like  the 
rest  of  us." 

"  Ah,  you  noticed  that,"  said  Yates.  "  Well, 
I've  often  thought  the  same  myself.  It's  a 
safe  remark  to  make ;  there  is  generally  no  dis- 
puting it." 

The  condescending  air  of  the  New  Yorker 
was  maddening,  and  Macdonald  realized  that 
he  was  losing  ground.  The  quiet  insolence  of 
Yates'  tone  was  so  exasperating  to  the  black- 
smith that  he  felt  any  language  at  his  disposal 
inadequate  to  cone  with  it.     The  time  for  the 


practical  joke  had  arrived.  The  conceit  of  this 
man  must  be  taken  down.  He  would  try 
Sandy's  method,  and,  if  that  failed,  it  would  at 
least  draw  attention  from  himself  to  his  helper. 
"  Being  as  you're  from  New  York,  maybe 
you  can  decide  a  little  bet  Sandy  here  wants  to 


lave  with  some 


ibody. 


120 


•ffn  tbe  /lfc(^0t  of  Blarms. 


H 


u 


Hi 


Sandy,  quick  to  take  the  hint,  picked  up  the 
bar  that  always  lay  near  enough  the  fire  to  be 
uncomfortably  warm. 

"How  much  do  you  reckon  that  weighs?" 
he  said,  with  critical  nicety  estimating  its 
ounces  in  his  swaying  hand.  Sandy  had  never 
done  it  better.  'I'here  was  a  look  of  perfect 
innocence  on  his  bland,  unsophisticated  coun- 
tenance, and  the  crowd  looked  on  in  breathless 
suspense. 

Bartlett  was  about  to  step  forward  and  save 
his  friend,  but  a  wicked  glare  from  Macdonald 
restrained  him  ;  besides,  he  felt,  somehow, 
that  his  sympathies  were  with  his  neighbors, 
and  not  with  the  stranger  he  had  brought 
among  them.  He  thought  resentfully  that 
Yates  might  have  been  less  high  and  mighty. 
In  fact,  when  he  asked  him  to  come  he  had 
imagined  his  brilliancy  would  be  instantly 
popular,  and  would  reflect  glory  on  himself. 
Now  he  fancied  he  was  included  in  the  general 
scorn  Yates  took  such  little  pains  to  conceal. 

Yates  glanced  at  the  piece  of  iron,  and,  with- 
out taking  his  hands  from  his  pockets,  said 
carelessly  : 

"Oh,  I  should  imagine  it  weighed  a  couple  of 
pounds." 

"  Heft  it,"  said  Sandy  beseechingly,  holding  it 
out  to  him. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  replied  Yates,  with  a  smile. 
"  Do  you  think  I  have  never  picked  up  a  hot 
horseshoe  before  ?  If  you  are  anxious  to  know 
its  weight,  why  don't  you  take  it  over  to  the 
grocery  store  and  have  it  weighed  ?  " 

"  'Taint  hot,"  said  Sandy,  as  he  feebly  smiled 
and  flung  the  iron  back  on  the  forge.  "  If  it 
was,  I  couldn't  have  held  it  s'long." 

"  Oh,  no,"  returned  Yates,  with  a  grin,  "  of 
course  not.  I  don't  know  what  a  blacksmith's 
hands  are,  do  I  ?     Try  something  fresh." 


^ 


.  I 


•ffn  tbe  mtiet  of  Blarme. 


121 


Macdonald  saw  there  was  no  triumph  over 
him  among  his  crowd,  for  they  all  evidently  felt 
as  much  involved  in  the  failure  of  Sandy's  trick 
as  he  did  himself ;  but  he  was  sure  that  in 
future  some  man,  hard  pushed  in  argument, 
would  fling  the  New  Yorker  at  him.  In  the 
crisis  he  showed  the  instinct  of  a  Napoleon. 

"Well,  boys," he  cried,  "fun's  fun,  but  I've 
got  to  work.  I  have  to  earn  »iy  living,  any- 
how." 

Yates  enjoyed  his  victory  ;  they  wouldn't  try 
"getting  at  "  him  again,  he  said  to  himself. 

Macdonald  strode  to  the  forge  and  took  out 
the  bar  of  white-hot  iron.  He  gave  a  scarcely 
perceptible  nod  to  Sandy,  who,  ever  ready  with 
tobacco  juice,  spat  with  great  directness  on  the 
top  of  the  anvil.  Macdonald  placed  the  hot 
iron  on  the  spot,  and  quickly  smote  it  a  stal- 
wart blow  with  the  heavy  hammer.  The  result 
was  appalling.  An  instantaneous  spreading 
fan  of  apparently  molten  iron  lit  up  the  place 
as  if  it  were  a  flash  of  lightning.  There  was  a 
crash  like  the  bursting  of  a  cannon.  The  shop 
was  filled  for  a  moment  with  a  shower  of  bril- 
liant sparks,  that  flew  like  meteors  to  every 
corner  of  the  place.  Everyone  was  prepared 
for  the  explosion  except  Yates.  He  sprang 
back  with  a  cry,  tripped,  and,  without  having 
time  to  get  the  use  of  his  hands  to  ease  his  fall, 
tumbled  and  rolled  to  the  horses'  heels.  The 
animals,  frightened  by  the  report,  stamped 
around  ;  and  Yates  had  to  hustle  on  his  hands 
and  knees  to  safer  quarters,  exhibiting  more 
celerity  than  dignity.  The  blacksmith  never 
smiled,  but  everyone  else  roared.  The  reputa- 
tion of  the  country  was  safe.  Sandy  doubled 
himself  up  in  his  boisterous  mirth. 

"There's  no  one  like  the  old  man!"  he 
shouted.  "  Oh,  lordy  !  lordy  !  He's  all  wool, 
and  a  yard  wide." 


U 


122 


fit  tbe  Atost  of  Blacma. 


(!■ 


I 


Yates  picked  himself  up  and  dusted  himself 
off,  laughing  with  the  rest  of  them. 

"  If  I  ever  knew  that  trick  before,  I  had  for- 
gotten it.  That's  one  on  me,  as  this  youth  in 
spasr  s  said  a  moment  ago.  Blacksmith,  shake  ! 
I'll  treat  the  crowd,  if  there's  a  place  handy." 


>    9'\ 


V 


H 


M 


CHAPTER  XI. 


People  who  have  but  a  superficial  knowledge 
of  the  life  and  times  here  set  down  may  possi- 
bly claim  that  the  grocery  store,  and  not  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  used  to  be  the  real  country 
club — the  place  where  the  politics  of  the 
country  were  discussed ;  where  the  doings  of 
great  men  were  commended  or  condemned, 
and  the  government  criticised.  It  is  true  that 
the  grocery  store  was  the  club  of  the  village, 
when  a  place  like  the  Corners  grew  to  be  a  vil- 
lage ;  but  the  blacksmith's  shop  was  usually  the 
first  building  erected  on  the  spot  where  a  village 
was  ultimately  to  stand.  It  was  the  nucleus. 
As  a  place  grew,  and  enervating  luxury  set  in, 
the  grocery  store  slowly  supplanted  the  black- 
smith's shop,  because  people  found  a  nail  keg, 
or  a  box  of  crackers,  more  comfortable  to  sit 
on  than  the  limited  seats  at  their  disposal  in  a 
smithy ;  moreover,  in  winter  the  store,  with  its 
red-hot  box  stove,  was  a  place  of  warmth  and 
joy,  but  the  reveling  in  such  an  atmosphere  of 
comfort  meant  that  the  members  of  the  club 
had  to  live  close  at  hand,  for  no  man  would 
brave  the  storms  of  a  Canadian  winter  night, 
and  journey  a  mile  or  two  through  the  snow, 
to  enjoy  even  the  pleasures  of  the  store.  So 
the  grocery  was  essentially  a  village  club,  and 
not  a  rural  club. 

Of  course,  as  civilization  advanced,  the  black- 
smith found  it  impossible  to  compete  with  the 
grocer.     He  could  not  offer  the  same  induce- 

M3 


124 


ITn  tbe  lSbit)6t  of  Blarma. 


■  t 

'V 


ments.  The  grocery  approached  more  nearly 
than  vhe  smithy  the  grateful  epicurism  of  the 
Athenaeum,  the  Reform,  or  the  Carlton,  It 
catered  to  the  appetite  of  man,  besides  sui)ply- 
ing  him  with  the  intellectual  stimulus  of  debate. 
A  box  of  soda  crackers  was  generally  open, 
and,  although  such  biscuits  were  always  dry, 
they  were  good  to  munch,  if  consumed  slowly. 
The  barrel  of  hazel  nuts  never  had  a  lid  on. 
The  raisins,  in  their  square  box,  with  blue- 
tinted  paper,  setting  forth  the  word  "  Malaga" 
under  the  colored  picture  of  joyous  Spanish 
grape  pickers,  stood  on  the  shelves  beiiind  the 
counter,  at  an  angle  suited  to  display  the  con- 
tents to  all  comers,  requiring  an  exceptionally 
long  reach,  and  more  than  an  ordinary  amount 
of  cheek,  before  they  were  got  at ;  but  the 
barrel  of  Muscavado  brown  sugar  was  where 
everyone  could  dip  his  hand  in  ;  while  the  man 
on  the  keg  of  tenpenny  nails  might  extend  his 
arm  over  into  the  display  window,  where  the 
highly  colored  candies  exhibited  themselves, 
although  the  person  who  meddled  often  with 
them  was  frowned  upon,  for  it  was  etiquette 
in  the  club  not  to  purloin  things  which  were 
expensive.  The  grocer  himself  drew  the  line 
at  the  candies,  and  a  second  helping  usually 
brought  forth  the  mild  reproof : 

"  Shall  I  charge  that,  Sam  ;  or  would  you 
rather  pay  for  it  now  ?  " 

All  these  delicacies  were  taken  in  a  somewhat 
surreptitious  way,  and  the  takers  generally 
wore  an  absent-minded  look,  as  if  the  purloin- 
ing was  not  quite  intentional  on  their  part. 
But  they  were  all  good  customers  of  the  grocer, 
and  the  abstractions  were  doubtless  looked  on 
by  him  as  being  in  the  way  of  trade  ;  just  as 
the  giving  of  a  present  with  a  pound  of  tea,  or 
a  watch  with  a  suit  of  clothes,  became  in  later 
days.    Be  that  as  it  may,  he  never  said  anything 


f n  tbe  flbfO0t  ot  Blarma. 


125 


1(3 ; 


■\  early 
d{  the 
n.     It 
Lipply- 
ebate. 
open, 
s  dry, 
ilowly. 
lid  on. 
I  blue- 
alaga" 
Ipanish 
lul  tbe 
le  con- 
tionally 
amount 
Dut   tbe 
;  wbere 
:be  man 
tend  bis 
lere  tbe 
m  selves, 
en  witb 
tiquette 
icb  were 
tbe  line 
usually 

)uld  you 

•mew  bat 

generally 

purloin- 

leir  part. 

ie  grocer, 

)oked  on 

just  as 
•f  tea,  or 

in  later 
I  anything 


unless  his  generosity  vvas  taken  advantage  of, 
which  was  rarely  the  case. 

Very  often  on  winter  nights  there  was  a  hila- 
rious feast,  that  helped  to  lighten  the  shelves 
and  burden  the  till.  This  ordinarily  took  the 
form  of  a  splurge  in  cove  oysters.  Cove  oysters 
came  from  Baltimore,  of  course,  in  round  tins  ; 
they  were  introduced  into  Canada  long  before 
the  square  tin  boxes  that  now  come  in  winter 
from  the  same  bivalvular  city.  Cove  oysters 
were  partly  cooked  before  being  tinned,  so  that 
they  would,  as  the  advertisements  say,  keep  in 
any  climate.  They  did  not  require  ice  around 
them,  as  do  the  square  tins  which  now  contain 
the  raw  oysters.     Someone  present  would  say  : 

"  What's  the  matter  with  having  a  feed  of 
cove  oysters  ?  " 

He  then  collected  a  subscription  of  ten  cents 
or  so  from  each  member,  and  the  whole  was 
expended  in  several  cans  of  oysters  and  a  few 
pounds  of  crackers.  The  cooking  was  done  in 
a  tin  basin  on  the  top  of  tbe  hot  stove.  The 
contents  of  the  cans  were  emptied  into  this 
handy  dish,  milk  was  added,  and  broken 
crackers,  to  give  thickness  and  consistency  to 
the  result.  There  were  always  plenty  of  plates, 
for  the  store  supplied  the  crockery  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. There  were  also  plenty  of  spoons, 
for  everything  was  to  be  had  at  the  grocery. 
What  more  could  the  most  exacting  man  need  ? 
On  a  particularly  reckless  night  the  feast  ended 
with  several  tins  of  peaches,  which  needed  no 
cooking,  but  only  a  sprinkling  of  sugar.  The 
grocer  was  always  an  expert  at  cooking  cove 
oysters  and  at  opening  tins  of  peaches. 

There  vvas  a  general  feeling  among  the  mem- 
bers that,  by  indulging  in  these  banquets,  they 
were  going  the  pace  rather;  and  some  of  the 
older  heads  feebly  protested  against  the  in- 
dulgence of  the  times,  but  it  was  noticed  that 


?l 


:V! 


126 


fn  tbe  flb(06t  of  Blarms. 


3* 


1  « 


they  never  refrained  from  doing  their  share 
when  it  came  to  spoon  work. 

"  A  man  has  but  one  life  to  live,"  the 
younger  and  more  reckless  would  say,  as  if 
that  excused  the  extravagance ;  for  a  member 
rarely  got  away  without  being  fifteen  cents  out 
of  pocket,  especially  when  they  had  peaches  as 
well  as  oysters. 

The  grocery  at  the  Corners  had  been  but 
recently  established,  and  as  yet  the  blacksmith's 
shop  had  not  looked  upon  it  as  a  rival.  Mac- 
donald  was  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed,  and  his 
shop  was  the  favorite  gathering  place  for  miles 
around.  The  smithy  was  also  the  patriotic 
center  of  the  district  is  a  blacksmith's  shop 
must  be  as  long  as  ai.  Is  can  take  the  place  of 
cannon  for  saluting  purposes.  On  the  24th  of 
May,  the  queen's  birthday,  celebrated  locally  as 
the  only  day  in  the  year,  except  Sundays,  when 
Macdonald's  face  was  clean  and  when  he  did 
no  work,  the  firing  of  the  anvils  aroused  the 
echoes  of  the  locality.  On  that  great  day  the 
grocer  supplied  the  powder,  which  was  worth 
three  York  shillings  a  pound — a  York  shilling 
being  sixpence  halfpenny.  It  took  two  men  to 
carry  an  anvil,  with  a  good  deal  of  grunting  ; 
but  Macdonald,  if  the  crowd  were  big  enough, 
made  nothing  of  picking  it  up,  hoisting  it  on 
his  shoulder,  and  flinging  it  down  on  the  green 
in  front  of  his  shop.  In  the  iron  mass  there  is 
a  square  hole,  and  when  the  anvil  was  placed 
upside  down,  the  hole  was  uppermost.  It  was 
filled  with  powder,  and  a  wooden  plug,  with  a 
notch  cut  in  it,  was  pounded  in  with  a  sledge 
hammer.  Powder  was  sprinkled  from  the  notch 
over  the  surface  of  the  anvil,  and  then  the  crowd 
stood  back  and  held  its  breath.  It  was  a  most 
exciting  moment.  Macdonald  would  come 
running  out  of  the  shop  bareheaded,  holding  a 
long    iron    bar,  the  wavering,  red-hot  end   of 


'/  • 


fn  tbe  /BblDet  ot  Blarma. 


127 


share 

,"  the 
,  as  if 
lember 
its  out 
ches  as 

;en  but 
.smith's 

Mac- 
and  his 
Dr  miles 
patriotic 
I's  shop 
place  of 
;  24th  of 
ocally  as 
^s.  when 
n  he  did 
used  the 
day  the 
IS  worth 
:  shilling 
0  men  to 
grunting ; 
•  enough, 
ing  it  on 
the  green 
s  there  is 
IS  placed 
It  was 
g,  with  a 

a  sledge 
the  notch 
the  crowd 
as  a  most 
lid  come 
holding  a 
ot  end  of 


which  descended  on  the  anvil,  while  the  black- 
smith shouted  in  a  terrifying  voice:  "  Look  out, 
there  !  "  The  loose  powder  hissed  and  spat  for 
a  moment,  then  bang  went  the  cannon,  and  a 
great  cloud  of  smoke  rolled  upward,  while  the 
rousing  cheers  came  echoing  back  from  the  sur- 
rounding forests.  The  helper,  with  the  powder 
horn,  would  spring  to  the  anvil  and  pour  the 
black  explosive  into  the  hole,  while  another  stood 
ready  with  plug  and  hanmier.  The  delicious 
scent  of  burned  gunpowder  filled  the  air,  and 
was  inhaled  by  all  the  youngsters  with  satisfac- 
tion, for  now  they  realized  what  real  war  was. 
Thus  the  salutes  were  fired,  and  thus  the  royal 
birthday  was  fittingly  celebrated. 

Where  two  anvils  were  to  be  had,  the  cannon- 
ade was  much  brisker,  as  then  a  plug  was  not 
needed.  The  hole  in  the  lower  anvil  was  filled 
with  powder,  and  the  other  anvil  was  placed 
over  it.  This  was  much  quicker  than  pounding 
in  a  plug,  and  had  quite  as  striking  and  deto- 
nating an  effect.  The  upper  anvil  gave  a  heave, 
like  Mark  Twain's  shot-laden  frog,  and  fell  over 
on  its  side.  The  smoke  rolled  up  as  usual,  and 
the  report  was  equally  gratifying. 

Yates  learned  all  these  things  as  he  sat  in  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  for  they  were  still  in  the 
month  of  May,  and  the  smoke  of  the  echoing 
anvils  had  hardly  yet  cleared  away.  All  present 
were  eager  to  tell  him  of  the  glory  of  the  day. 
One  or  two  were  good  enough  to  express  regret 
that  he  had  not  been  there  to  see.  After  the 
disaster  which  had  overturned  Yates  things 
had  gone  on  very  smoothly,  and  he  had  become 
one  of  tlie  crowd,  as  it  were.  The  fact  that  he 
was  or  ginally  a  Canadian  told  in  his  favor, 
althoug  1  he  had  been  contaminated  by  long 
residenc  ^  in  the  States. 

Macdoiald  worked  hard  at  the  turning  of 
horseshoe  5  from  long  rods  of  iron.     Usually  an 


HPi 


128 


1In  tbe  /IB(D0t  ot  Blarms. 


1 


extended  line  of  unfinished  shoes  bestrode  a 
blackened  scantling,  like  bodiless  horsemen, 
the  scantling  crossing  the  shop  overhead,  just 
under  the  roof.  These  were  the  work  of  IVIac- 
donald's  comparatively  leisure  days,  and  they 
were  ready  to  be  fitted  to  the  hoofs  of  any 
horse  that  came  to  be  shod,  but  on  this  occasion 
there  had  been  such  a  run  on  his  stock  that  it 
was  exhausted,  a  depletion  the  smith  seemed 
to  regard  as  a  reproach  on  himself,  for  he  told 
Yates  several  times  that  he  often  had  as  many 
as  three  dozen  shoes  up  aloft  for  a  rainy  day. 

When  the  sledge  hammer  work  was  to  be 
done,  one  of  those  present  stepped  forward  and 
swung  the  heavy  sledge,  keeping  stroke  for 
stroke  with  Macdonald's  one-handed  hammer, 
all  of  which  required  a  nice  car  for  time.  This 
assistance  was  supposed  to  be  rendered  by 
Sandy;  but,  as  he  remarked,  he  was  no  hog, 
and  anyone  who  wished  to  show  his  skill  was 
at  liberty  to  do  so.  Sandy  seemed  to  spend 
most  of  his  time  at  the  bellows,  and  when  he 
was  not  echoing  the  sentiments  of  the  boss,  as 
he  called  him,  he  was  commending  the  expert- 
ness  of  the  pro  te?n.  amateur,  the  wielder  of  the 
sledge.  It  was  fun  to  the  amateur,  and  it  was 
an  old  thing  with  Sandy,  so  he  never  protested 
against  this  interference  with  his  duty,  believ- 
ing in  giving  everyone  a  chance,  especially 
when  it  came  to  swinging  a  heavy  hammer.  The 
whole  scene  brought  back  to  Yates  the  days  of 
his  youth,  especially  when  Macdonald,  putting 
the  finishing  strokes  to  h's  shoe,  let  his  ham- 
mer periodically  tinkle  Vv'ith  musical  clangor 
on  the  anvil,  ringing  forth  a  tintinnabulation 
that  chimed  melodiously  on  the  ear — a  sort  of 
anvil-chorus  accompaniment  to  his  mechanical 
skill.  He  was  a  real  sleight-of-hand  man,  and 
the  anvil  was  his  orchestra. 

Yates  soon  began  to  enjoy  his  visit  to  the 


•ffn  tbc  /iBiOat  ct  Blavma. 


129 


rural  club.  As  the  members  thawed  out  he 
found  them  all  first-rate  fellows,  and,  what  was 
more,   they   were    appreciative   listeners.     His 


and 


stories  were  all  evidently  new  to  them, 
nothing  puts  a  man  into  a  genial  frame  of  mind 
so  quickly  as  an  attentive,  sympathetic  audi- 
ence. Few  men  could  tell  a  story  better  than 
Yates,  but  lie  needed  the  responsive  touch  of 
interested  hearers.  He  hated  to  have  to  explain 
the  points  of  his  anecdotes,  as,  indeed,  what 
story-teller  does  not  ?  A  cold  and  critical  man 
like  the  professor  froze  the  spring  of  narration 
at  its  source.  Besides,  Renmark  had  an  objec- 
tionable habit  of  tracing  the  recital  to  its  origin  ; 
it  annoyed  Yates  to  tell  a  modern  yarn,  and 
then  discover  that  Aristophanes,  or  some  other 
prehistoric  poacher  on  the  good  things  men 
were  to  say,  had  forestalled  him  by  a  thousand 
years  or  so.  When  a  man  is  quick  to  see  the 
point  of  your  stories,  and  laughs  heartily  at 
them,  you  are  apt  to  form  a  high  opinion  of  his 
good  sense,  and  to  value  his  companionship. 

When  the  horses  were  shod,  and  young 
Bartlett,  who  was  delighted  at  the  impression 
Yates  had  made,  was  preparing  to  go,  the 
whole  company  protested  against  the  New 
Yorker's  departure.     This  was  real  flattery. 

"  What's  your  hurry,  Bartlett  ?  "  asked  the 
whittler.  "You  can't  do  anything  this  after- 
noon, if  you  do  go  home.  It's  a  poor  time  this 
to  mend  a  bad  dav's  work.  If  you  stay,  he'll 
stay;  won't  you,  Mr.  Yates?  Macdonald  is 
going  to  set  tires,  and  he  needs  us  all  to  look  on 
and  see  that  he  does  it  right ;  don't  you,  Mac  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  get  a  lot  of  help  from  you  while 
there's  a  stick  to  whittle,"  replied  the  smith. 

"  Then  there's  the  protracted  meeting  to- 
night at  the  schoolhouse,"  put  in  another,  anx- 
ious that  all  the  attractions  of  the  place  should 
be  brought  forward. 


I 


7- 


'( 


■:t 


130 


Ifn  tbc  /HblOat  of  Blarm^. 


<  y 


"  That's  so,"  said  the  whittler ;  "  I  had  for- 
gotten about  that.  It's  the  first  night,  so  we 
must  all  be  there  to  encourage  old  Henderson. 
You'll  be  on  hand  to-night,  won't  you,  Mac- 
donald  ?  " 

The  blacksmith  made  no  answer,  but  turned 

to  Sandy  and  asked  him  savagely  what  in 

and nation  he  was  standing  gawking  there 

for.  Why  didn't  he  go  outside  and  get  things 
ready  for  the  tire  setting  ?  What  in  thunder 
was  he  paying  him  for,  anyhow  ?  Wasn't 
there  enough  loafers  round,  without  him  join- 
ing the  ranks  .^ 

Sandy  took  this  rating  with  equanimity,  and, 
when  the  smith's  back  was  turned,  he  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  took  a  fresh  bite  of  tobacco  from 
the  plug  which  he  drew  from  his  hip  pocket, 
winking  at  the  others  as  he  did  so.  He 
leisurely  followed  Macdonald  out  of  the  shop, 
saying  in  a  whisper  as  he  passed  the  whittler  : 

"  I  wouldn't  rile  the  old  man,  if  I  were  you." 

The  club  then  adjourned  to  the  outside,  all 
except  those  who  sat  on  the  bench.  Yates 
asked  : 

"What's  the  matter  with  Macdonald.? 
Doesn't  he  like  protracted  meetings }  And, 
by  the  way,  what  are  protracted  meetings  ?  " 

"They're  revival  meetings — religious  meet- 
ings, you  know,  for  converting  sinners." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Yates.  "  But  why  pro- 
tracted ?  Are  they  kept  on  for  a  week  or 
two  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  suppose  that's  why,  although,  to  tell 
the  truth,  I  never  knew  the  reason  foi  the 
name.  Protracted  meetings  always  stood  for 
just  the  same  thing  ever  since  I  was  a  boy,  and 
we  took  it  as  meaning  that  one  thing,  without 
thinking  why." 

"  And  doesn't  Macdonald  like  them  ?  " 

"  Well,  you   see,   it's  like  this :    He  never 


^1 


^  ?  ill 


•ffn  tbe  flbiOst  of  Blarms. 


131 


on  aid  ? 

And, 
s?" 

meet- 


pro- 
itk  or 

to  tell 
the 


never 


wants  to  go  to  a  protracted  meeting,  yet  he 
can't  keep  away.  He's  like  a  drunkard  and  the 
corner  tavern.  He  can't  pass  it,  and  he  knows 
if  he  goes  in  he  will  fall.  Macdonald's  always 
the  first  one  to  go  up  to  the  penitent  bench. 
They  ral<e  him  in  every  time.  He  has  religion 
real  bad  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  then  he 
backslides.  He  doesn't  seem  able  to  stand 
either  the  converting  or  the  backsliding.  I  sup- 
pose some  time  they  will  gather  him  in  finally, 
and  he  will  stick  and  become  a  class  leader, 
but  he  hasn't  stuck  up  to  date." 

"  Then  he  doesn't  like  to  hear  the  subject 
spoken  of  ?  " 

"  You  bet  he  don't.  It  isn't  safe  to  twit  him 
about  it  either.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  pleased 
when  I  heard  him  swear  at  Sandy;  then  I  knew 
it  was  all  right,  and  Sandy  can  stand  it.  Mac- 
donald  is  a  bad  man  to  tackle  when  he's  mad. 
There's  nobody  in  this  district  can  handle  him. 
I'd  sooner  get  a  blow  from  a  sledge  hammer 
than  meet  Mac's  fist  when  his  dander  is  up. 
But  so  long  as  he  swears  it's  all  right.  Say, 
you'll  stay  down  for  the  meeting,  won't  you.^  " 

"  I  think  I  will.  I'll  see  what  young  Bartlett 
intends  to  do.  It  isn't  very  far  to  walk,  in  any 
case." 

"  There  will  be  lots  of  nice  girls  going  your 
way  to-night  after  the  meeting.  I  don't  know 
but  I'll  jog  along  in  that  direction  myself  when 
it's  over.  That's  the  principal  use  I  have  for 
the  meetings,  anyhow." 

The  whittler  and  Yates  got  down  from  the 
bench,  and  joined  the  crowd  outside.  Young 
Bartlett  sat  on  one  of  the  horses,  loath  to  leave 
while  the  tire  setting  was  going  on. 

"  Are  you  coming,  Yates  ?  "  he  shouted,  as 
his  comrade  appeared. 

•  I   think   I'll   stay   for  the   meeting,"    said 
Yates,  approaching  him  and  patting  the  horse. 


)i! 


W^^^^^-----'^'^     ■ 


n^ 


132 


•ffn  tbe  /RlOet  of  Blarms. 


'■ 


m 


I 


I 


I-  J 


He  had  no  desire  for  mounting  and  riding  away 
in  the  presence  of  that  critical  assemblage. 

"  All  right,"  said  young  Bartlett.  "  I  guess 
I'll  be  down  at  the  meeting,  too  ;  then  1  can 
show  you  the  way  home." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Yates ;  "  I'll  be  on  the  look- 
out for  you." 

Young  Bartlett  galloped  away,  and  was  soon 
lost  to  sight  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  The  others 
had  also  departed  with  their  shod  horses  ;  but 
there  were  several  new  arrivals,  and  the  com- 
pany was  augmented  rather  than  diminished. 
They  sat  around  on  the  fence,  Or  on  the  logs 
dumped  down  by  the  wayside. 

Few  smoked,  but  many  chewed  tobacco.  It 
w^as  a  convenient  way  of  using  the  weed,  and 
required  no  matches,  besides  being  safer  for 
men  who  had  to  frequent  inflammable  barns. 

A  circular  tire  burned  in  front  of  the  shop, 
oak  bark  being  the  main  fuel  used.  '  Iron 
wagon  tires  lay  hidden  in  this  burning  circle. 
Macdonald  and  Sandy  bustled  about  making 
preparations,  their  faces,  more  hideous  in  the 
bright  sunlight  than  in  the  comparative  obscurity 
of  the  shop,  giving  them  the  appearance  of  two 
evil  spirits  about  to  attend  some  incantation 
scene  of  which  the  circular  fire  was  the  visi- 
ble indication.  Crosstrees,  of  four  pieces  of 
squared  timber,  lay  near  the  fire,  with  a  tireless 
wheel  placed  flat  upon  them,  the  hub  in  the 
square  hole  at  the  center  Shiftless  farmers 
always  resisted  having  tires  set  until  they 
would  no  longer  stay  on  the  wheel.  The  in- 
evitable day  was  postponed,  time  and  again,  by 
a  soaking  of  the  wheels  overnight  in  some  con- 
venient puddle  of  water;  but  as  the  warmer 
and  dryer  weather  approached  this  device, 
supplemented  by  wooden  wedges,  no  longer 
sufficed,  and  the  tires  had  to  be  set  for  summer 
work.      Frequently  the  tire  rolled  off^on  the 


"1 


f  n  tbe  flb(50t  of  Blarm0. 


133 


sandy  highway,  and  the  farmer  was  reluctantly 
compelled  to  borrow  a  rail  from  the  nearest 
fence,  and  place  it  so  as  to  support  the  axle ;  he 
then  put  the  denuded  wheel  and  its  tire  on  the 
wagon,  and  drove  slowly  to  the  nearest  black- 
smith's shop,  his  vehicle  "trailing  like  a 
wounded  duck,"  the  rail  leaving  a  snake's  track 
behind  it  on  the  dusty  road. 

The  blacksmith  had  previously  rut  and  welded 
the  tire,  reducing  its  circumference,  and  when 
it  was  hot  enough,  he  and  Sandy,  each  with  a 
pair  of  tongs,  lifted  it  from  the  red-hot  circle  of 
fire.  It  was  pressed  and  hammered  down  on 
the  blazing  rim  of  the  wheel,  and  instantly  Sandy 
and  Macdonald,  with  two  pails  of  water  that 
stood  handy,  poured  the  cold  liquid  around  the 
red-hot  zone,  enveloping  themselves  in  clouds  of 
steam,  the  quick  contraction  clamping  the  iron 
on  the  wood  until  the  joints  cracked  together. 
There  could  be  no  loitering  ;  quick  work  w  as 
necessary,  or  a  spoiled  wheel  was  the  result. 
Macdonald,  alternately  spluttering  through  fire 
and  steam,  was  in  his  element.  Even  Sandy 
had  to  be  on  the  keen  jump,  without  a  moment 
to  call  his  plug  of  tobacco  his  own.  Macdonald 
fussed  and  fussed,  but  got  through  an  immense 
amount  of  work  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of 
time,  cursing  Sandy  pretty  much  all  the  while; 
yet  that  useful  man  never  replied  in  kind,  con- 
tenting himself  with  a  wink  at  the  crowd 
when  he  got  the  chance,  and  saying  under  his 
breath : 

"  The  old  man's  in  great  fettle  to-day." 
Thus  everybody  enjoyed  himself :  Mac- 
donald, because  he  was  the  center  figure  in  a 
saturnalia  of  w'ork  ;  Sandy,  because  no  matter 
how  hard  a  man  has  to  work  he  can  chew 
tobacco  all  the  time ;  the  crowd,  because  the 
spectacle  of  fire,  water,  and  steam  was  fine, 
and  they  didn't  have   to  do  anything  but  sit 


t    : 


II 


(' 


mmmmm 


134 


•ffn  tbe  ^1^5t  of  Blarma, 


around  and  look  on.  The  sun  got  lower  and 
lower  as,  one  by  one,  the  spectators  departed 
to  do  their  chores,  and  prepare  for  the  even- 
ing meeting.  Yates  at  the  invitation  of  the 
whittler  went  home  with  him,  and  thoroughly 
relished  his  evening  meal. 


fMi' 


ti 


I 


1 


r,  .01    t 


i 


ti 


I 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Margaret  had  never  met  any  man  but  her 
father  who  was  so  fond  of  books  as  Professor 
RenmarU.  The  young  fellows  of  her  acquaint- 
ance read  scarcely  anything  but  the  weekly 
papers  ;  they  went  with  some  care  through  the 
yellow  almanac  that  was  given  away  free,  with 
the  grocer's  name  printed  on  the  back.  The 
marvelous  cures  the  almanac  recorded  were  of 
little  interest,  and  were  chiefly  read  by  the  older 
folk,  but  the  young  men  reveled  in  the  jokes  to 
be  found  at  the  bottom  of  every  page,  their 
only  drawback  being  that  one  could  never  tell 
the  stories  at  a  paring-bee  or  other  social 
gathering,  because  everyone  in  the  company 
had  read  them.  A  few  of  the  young  men  came 
sheepishly  round  to  get  a  book  out  of  the  library, 
but  it  was  evident  that  their  interest  was  not  so 
much  in  the  volume  as  in  thr  librarian,  and 
when  that  fact  became  apparent  to  the  girl,  she 
resented  it.  Margaret  was  thought  to  be  cold 
and  proud  by  the  youth  of  the  neighborhood,  or 
"  stuck-up,"  as  they  expressed  it. 

To  such  a  girl  a  man  like  Renmark  was  a 
revelation.  He  could  talk  of  other  things  than 
the  weather,  live  stock,  and  the  prospects  for 
the  crops.  The  conversation  at  first  did  not 
include  Margaret,  but  she  listened  to  ev^ery 
word  of  it  with  interest.  Her  father  and  mother 
were  anxious  to  hear  about  their  boy ;  and  from 
that  engrossing  subject  the  talk  scon  drifted  to 
university  life,  and  the  differences  between  city 
and  country.     At  last  the  farmer,  with  a  sigh, 


■' 


w  f 


136 


ITn  tbe  IS^ibet  of  Blarrns* 


I/' 


:r  1 


(V 


arose  to  go.  There  is  little  time  for  pleasant 
talk  on  a  farm  while  daylight  lasts.  Margaret, 
remembering  her  duties  as  librarian,  began  to 
take  in  the  books  from  the  wagon  to  the  front 
room.  Renmark,  slow  in  most  things,  was 
quick  enough  to  offer  his  assistance  on  this 
occasion  ;  but  he  reddened  somewhat  as  he  did 
so,  for  he  was  unused  to  being  a  squire  of 
dames. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  do  the  porterage," 
he  said.  "  I  would  like  to  earn  the  right  to 
look  at  these  books  sometimes,  even  though  I 
may  not  have  the  privilege  of  borrowing,  not 
being  a  taxable  resident  of  the  township." 

"  The  librarian,"  answered  Margaret,  with  a 
smile,  "  seems  to  be  at  liberty  to  use  her  own 
discretion  in  the  matter  of  lending.  No  one  has 
authority  to  look  over  her  accounts,  or  to  cen- 
sure her  if  she  lends  recklessly.  So,  if  you  wish 
to  borrow  booi<s,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  ask 
for  them." 

"  You  may  be  sure  I  shall  avail  myself  of  the 
permission.  But  my  conscience  will  be  easier 
if  I  am  allowed  to  carry  tiiem  in." 

"  You  vv'ill  be  permitted  to  help.  I  like  carry- 
ing them.  There  is  no  more  delicious  armful 
than  books." 

As  Renmark  looked  at  the  lovely  girl,  her 
face  radiant  with  enthusiasm,  the  disconcerting 
thought  came  suddenly  that  perhaps  her  state- 
ment might  not  be  accurate.  No  such  thought 
had  ever  suggested  itself  to  him  before,  and  it 
now  filled  him  with  guilty  confusion.  He  met 
the  clear,  honest  gaze  of  her  eyes  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  he  stammered  lamely  : 

"I — I  too  am  very  fond  of  books." 

Together  they  carried  in  the  several  hundred 
volumes,  and  then  began  to  arrange  them, 

"  Have  you  no  catalogue  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No.    We  never  seem  to  need  one.    People 


■■R 


fin  tbe  ^iddt  ot  Blarmd. 


137 


idred 


come  and  look  over  the  library,  and  take  out 
whatever  book  they  fancy." 

"  Yes,  but  still  every  library  ought  to  be  cata- 
logued. Cataloguing  is  an  art  in  itself.  I  have 
paid  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  it,  and  will 
show  you  how  it  is  done,  if  you  care  to  know." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  would." 

"  How  do  you  keep  a  record  of  the  volumes 
that  are  out  ?  " 

"  I  just  write  the  name  of  the  person,  the 
title,  and  the  date  in  this  blank  book.  When 
the  volume  is  returned,  I  score  out  the  record." 

"  I  see,"  said  Renmark  dubiously. 

"That  isn't  right,  is  it.?  Is  there  a  better 
way  ?  " 

"  Well,  for  a  small  library,  that  ought  to  do  ; 
but  if  you  were  handling  many  books,  I  think 
confusion  might  result." 

"  Do  tell  me  the  right  way.  I  should  like  to 
know,  even  if  it  is  a  small  library." 

"  There  are  several  methods,  but  I  am  by  no 
means  sure  your  way  is  not  the  simplest,  and 
therefore  the  best  in  this  instance." 

'*  I'm  not  going  to  be  put  off  like  that,"  said 
Margaret,  laughing.  "  A  collection  of  books  is 
a  collection  of  books,  whether  large  or  small, 
and  deserves  respect  and  the  best  of  treatment. 
Now,  what  method  is  used  in  large  libraries  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  siiould  suggest  a  system  of  cards, 
though  slips  of  paper  would  do.  When  any 
person  wants  to  take  out  a  book,  let  him  make 
out  a  card,  giving  the  date  and  tiie  name  or 
number  of  the  book  ;  he  then  must  sign  the 
card,  and  there  you  are.  He  cannot  deny  hav- 
ing had  the  book,  for  you  have  his  own  signa- 
ture to  prove  it.  The  slips  are  arranged  in  a 
box  according  to  dates,  and  when  a  book  is 
returned,  you  tear  up  the  recording  paper." 

"  I  think  that  is  a  very  good  way,  and  I  will 
adopt  it." 


jj 


138 


•ffn  tbe  jflBiDst  of  Blarme. 


"  Then  let  me  send  to  Toronto  and  get  you 
a  few  hundred  cards.  We'll  have  them  here  in 
a  day  or  two." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  put  you  to  that 
trouble." 

"  It  is  no  trouble  at  all.  Now,  that  is  settled, 
let  us  attack  the  catalogue.  Have  you  a  blank 
book  anywhere  about  ?  We  will  first  make  an 
alphabetical  list ;  then  we  will  arrange  them 
under  the  heads  of  history,  biography,  fiction, 
and  so  on." 

Simple  as  it  appeared,  the  making  of  a  cata- 
logue took  a  long  time.  Both  were  absorbed  in 
their  occupation.  Cataloguing  in  itself  is  a 
straight  and  narrow  path,  but  in  this  instance 
there  were  so  many  delightful  side  excursions 
that  rapid  progress  could  not  be  expected.  To 
a  reader  the  mere  mention  of  a  book  brings  up 
recollections.  Margaret  was  reading  out  the 
names ;  Renmark,  on  slips  of  paper,  each  with 
a  letter  on  it,  was  writing  them  down. 

"  Oh,  have  you  that  book  ?  "  he  would  say, 
looking  up  as  a  title  was  mentioned.  *'  Have 
you  ever  read  it }  " 

"  No  ;  for,  you  see,  this  part  of  the  library  is 
all  new  to  me.  Why,  here  is  one  of  which  the 
leaves  are  not  even  cut.  No  one  has  read  it. 
Is  it  good  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  best,"  Renmark  would  say,  tak- 
ing the  volume.  "  Yes,  I  know  this  edition. 
Let  me  read  you  one  passage." 

And  Margaret  would  sit  in  the  rocking  chair, 
while  he  cut  the  leaves  and  found  the  place. 
One  extract  was  sure  to  suggest  another,  and 
time  passed  before  the  title  of  the  book  found 
its  way  to  the  proper  slip  of  paper.  These  ex- 
cursions into  literature  were  most  interesting  to 
both  excursionists,  but  they  interfered  with 
cataloguing.  Renmark  read  and  read,  ever  and 
anon  stopping  to  explain  some  point,  or  quote 


■<*^i«aM 


•ffn  tbe  flblDst  of  Blacma. 


139 


:hair, 
)lace. 
',  and 
found 
le  ex- 
|ng  to 
with 
tY  and 
[quote 


what  someone  else  had  said  on  the  same  sub- 
ject, marking  the  place  in  the  book,  as  he 
paused,  with  inserted  fore  finger.  Margaret 
swayed  back  and  forth  in  the  comfortable 
rocking  chair,  and  listened  intently,  her  large 
dark  eyes  fixed  upon  him  so  earnestly  that  now 
and  then,  when  he  met  them,  he  seemed  dis- 
concerted for  a  moment.  But  the  girl  did  not 
notice  this.  At  the  end  of  one  of  his  disserta- 
tions she  leaned  her  elbow  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair,  with  her  cheek  resting  against  her  hand, 
and  said : 

"  How  very  clear  you  make  everything,  Mr. 
Ren  mark." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  he  said  with  a  smile. 
"  It's  my  business,  you  know." 

"  I  think  it's  a  shame  that  girls  are  not  al- 
lowed to  go  to  the  university  ;  don't  you  }  " 

"  Really,  I  never  gave  any  thought  to  the 
subject,  and  I  am  not  quite  prepared  to  say." 

"  Well,  I  think  it  most  unfair.  The  university 
is  supported  by  the  Government,  is  it  not.' 
Then  why  should  half  of  the  population  be 
shut  out  from  its  advantages .''  " 

"  I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  do,  you  know." 

"Why?" 

"There  are  many  reasons,"  he  replied 
evasively. 

"  What  are  they  ?  Do  you  think  girls  could 
not  learn,  or  are  not  as  capable  of  hard  study 
as  well  as " 

"It  isn't  that,"  he  interrupted;  "there  are 
plenty  of  girls'  schools  in  the  country,  you 
know.  Some  very  good  ones  in  Toronto  it- 
self, for  that  matter." 

"Yes;  but  why  shouldn't  I  go  to  the  uni- 
versity with  my  brother  ?  There  are  plenty  of 
boys'  schools,  too,  but  the  university  is  the  uni- 
versity. I  suppose  my  father  helps  to  support 
it.     Why,  then,  should  one  child  be  allowed  to 


1 '  I 


i 


140 


ITn  tbe  /lbf{)dt  ot  Blatms. 


ri 


li: 


attend  and  the  other  not  ?  It  isn't  at  all 
just. 

"  It  wouldn't  do,"  said  the  professor  more 
firmly,  the  more  he  thought  about  it. 

"  Would  you  take  that  as  a  satisfying  reason 
from  one  of  your  students.-*  " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  The  phrase,  '  It  wouldn't  do.' " 

Renmark  laughed. 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  he  said;  "but,  then,  I'm 
very  exacting  in  class.  Now,  if  you  want  to 
know,  why  do  you  not  ask  your  father  ?  " 

"  Father  and  I  have  discussed  the  question, 
often,  and  he  quite  agrees  with  me  in  thinking 
it  unfair." 

"  Oh,  does  he  ?  "  said  Renmark,  taken  aback  ; 
although,  when  he  reflected,  he  realized  that 
the  father  doubtless  knew  as  little  about  the 
dangers  of  the  city  as  the  daughter  did. 

"  And  what  does  your  mother  say  ?" 

"  Oh,  mother  thinks  if  a  girl  is  a  good  house- 
keeper it  is  all  that  is  required.  So  you  will 
have  to  give  me  a  good  reason,  if  there  is  one, 
for  nobody  else  in  this  house  argues  on  your 
side  of  the  question." 

"  Well,"  said  Renmark  in  an  embarrassed 
manner,  "  if  you  don't  know  by  the  time  you 
are  twenty-five,  I'll  promise  to  discuss  the 
whole  subject  with  you." 

Margaret  sighed  as  she  leaned  back  in  her 
chair. 

"Twenty-five?"  she  cried,  adding  vvim  the 
unconscious  veracity  of  youth :  "  That  will  be 
seven  years  to  wait.  Thank  you,  but  I  think 
I'll  find  out  before  that  time." 

"  I  think  you  will,"  Renmark  answered. 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  sudden  and 
unannounced  entrance  of  her  brother. 

"  Hello,  you  two ! "  he  shouted  with  the 
rude   familiarity  of    a    boy.    "  It    seems    the 


■i; 


itmntm 


In  tbe  /iftiDst  ot  Blarms. 


141 


;n  and 


library  takes  a  longer  time  to  arrange  than 
usual." 

Margaret  rose  with  dignity. 

"We  are  cataloguing,"  she  said  severely. 

"  Oh,  that's  what  you  call  it,  is  it.-*  Cm  I  be 
of  any  assistance,  or  is  two  company  when 
they're  cataloguing  }  Have  you  any  idea  what 
time  it  is  }  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  must  be  off,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, rising.  "  My  companion  in  camp  won't 
know  what  has  become  of  me." 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right !  "  said  Henry.  "  He's 
down  at  the  Corners,  and  is  going  to  stay  there 
for  the  meeting  to-night.  Young  Bartlett 
passed  a  while  ago  ;  he  was  getting  the  horses 
shod,  and  your  friend  went  with  him.  I  guess 
Yates  can  take  care  of  himself,  Mr.  Renmark. 
Say,  sis,  will  you  go  to  the  meeting  ?  I'm  going. 
Young  Bartlett's  going,  and  so  is  Kitty.  Won't 
you  come,  too,  Mr.  Renmark.''     It's  great  fun." 

"  Don't  talk  like  that  about  a  religious 
gathering,  Henry,"  said  his  sister,  frowning. 

••  Well,  that's  what  it  is,  anyhow." 

"  Is  it  a  prayer  meeting  ?  "  asked  the  pro- 
fessor, looking  at  the  girl. 

"  You  bet  it  is  !  "  cried  Henry  enthusiastically, 
giving  no  one  a  chance  *o  speak  but  himself. 
"  It's  a  prayer  meeting,  and  every  other  kind  of 
meeting  all  rolled  into  one.  It's  a  revival  meet- 
ing ;  a  protracted  meeting,  that's  what  it  is. 
You  had  better  come  with  us,  Mr.  Renmark, 
and  then  you  can  see  what  it  is  like.  You  can 
walk  home  with  Yates." 

This  attractive  denouement  did  not  seem  to 
appeal  so  strongly  to  the  professor  as  the  boy 
expected,  for  he  made  no  answer. 

"  You  will  come,  sis ;  won't  you  ?  "  urged  the 
boy. 

"  Are  you  sure  Kitty  is  going  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she   is.    You  don't  think  she'd 


*.i 


\ 


f 


m 


f: 


\if 


lii: 


'li 


142 


Ifn  tbe  Abidet  of  Blarmd* 


miss   it,  do  you  ?    They'll  soon  be  here,  too ; 
better  go  ancl  get  ready." 

"  I'll  see  what  mother  says,"  replied  Margaret 
as  she  left  the  room.  She  shortly  returned, 
dressed  ready  for  the  meeting,  and  the  pro- 
fessor concluded  he  would  go  also. 


■» 


if. 


o; 

ret 
ed, 
ro- 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


'I 


Anyone  passing  the  Corners  that  evening 
would  have  quici<ly  seen  that  something  impor- 
tant was  on.  Vehicles  of  all  kinds  lined  the 
roadway,  drawn  in  toward  the  fence,  to  the 
rails  of  which  the  horses  were  tied.  Some  had 
evidently  come  from  afar,  for  the  fame  of  the 
revivalist  was  widespread.  The  women,  when 
they  arrived,  entered  the  schoolhouse,  which 
was  brilliantly  lighted  with  oil  lamps.  The 
men  stood  around  outside  in  groups,  while 
many  sat  in  rows  on  the  fences,  all  conversing 
about  every  conceivable  topic  except  religion. 
They  apparently  acted  on  the  theory  that  there 
would  be  enough  religion  to  satisfy  the  most 
exacting  when  they  went  inside.  Yates  sat  on 
the  top  rail  of  the  fence  with  the  whittler,  whose 
guest  he  had  been.  It  was  getting  too  dark 
for  satisfactory  whittling,  so  the  man  with  the 
jack-knife  improved  the  time  by  cutting  notches 
in  the  rail  on  which  he  sat.  Even  when  this 
failed,  there  was  always  a  satisfaction  in  open- 
ing and  shutting  a  knife  that  had  a  powerful 
spring  at  the  back  of  it,  added  to  which  was 
the  pleasurable  danger  of  cutting  his  fingers. 
They  were  discussing  the  Fenian  question, 
which  at  that  time  was  occupying  the  minds  of 
Canadians  to  some  extent.  Yates  was  telling 
them  what  he  knew  of  the  brotherhood  in  New 
York,  and  the  strength  of  it,  which  his  auditors 
seemed  inclined  to  underestimate.  Nobody 
believed  that  the  Fenians  would  be  so  fool- 
hardy as  to  attempt  an  invasion  of  Canada; 

143 


144 


•ffn  tbe  /IRtOst  of  Blarme. 


'/ 


u 


'ii 


hi . 


'(      r> 


h. 


u: 


11 


but  Yates  held  that  if  lliey  did  tliey  would  give 
the  Canadians  more  trouble  than  was  expected. 

"Oh,  we'll  turn  old  Bartlett  on  them,  if  they 
come  over  here.  They'll  be  glad  enough  to  get 
back  if  he  tackles  them." 

"  With  his  tongue,"  added  another. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  the  whittler,  "  did  young 
Bartlett  say  he  was  coming  to-night  ?  I  hope 
he'll  bring  his  sister  if  he  does.  Didn't  any  of 
you  fellows  ask  him  to  bring  her  ?  He'd  never 
think  of  it  if  he  wasn't  told.  He  has  no  con- 
sideration for  the  rest  of  us." 

"  Why  didn't  you  ask  him?  I  hear  you  have 
taken  to  going  in  that  direction  yourself." 

•'  Who  ?  Me  ?  "  asked  the  whittler,  quite  un- 
concerned. "  I  have  no  chance  in  that  quarter, 
especially  when  the  old  man's  around." 

There  was  a  sound  of  singing  from  the 
school  house.  The  double  doors  were  wide 
open,  and  as  the  light  streamed  out  the  people 
began  to  stream  in." 

"  Where's  Macdonald  ?  "  asked  Yates. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  he's  taken  to  the  woods.  He 
washes  his  face,  and  then  he  hides.  He  has 
the  sense  to  wash  his  face  first,  for  he  knows 
he  will  have  to  come.  You'll  see  him  back 
before  they  start  the  second  hymn." 

"Well,  boys!"  said  one,  getting  down  from 
the  fence  and  stretching  his  arms  above  his 
head  with  a  yawn,  "  I  guess,  if  we're  going  in, 
it's  about  time." 

One  after  another  they  got  down  from  the 
fence,  the  whittler  shutting  his  knife  with  a 
reluctant  snap,  and  nutting  it  in  his  pocket 
with  evident  regret.  The  schoolhouse,  large  as 
it  was,  was  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity — women 
on  one  side  of  the  room,  and  men  on  the  other; 
although  near  the  door  there  was  no  such 
division,  all  the  occupants  of  the  back  benches 
being  men  and  boys.     The  congregation  v/as 


,t-'i 


tn  tbc  /I6it)0t  of  Blarma. 


14! 


1(1  give 
)ectecl. 
if  they 
1  to  get 


young 

I  hope 

any  of 

d  never 

10  con- 

3U  have 

jite  un- 
ijuarter, 

om  the 
'c  wide 
I  people 


tls.     He 

He  has 

:  knows 

m  back 

vn  fronn 
)Ove  his 
roing  in, 

rom  the 

with  a 

pocket 

large  as 

-women 

le  other; 

no  such 
benches 

tion  v/as 


standing,  singing  a  hymn,  when  Yates  and 
his  comrades  entered,  so  their  quiet  incoming 
was  not  noticed.  The  teacher's  desk  had  been 
moved  from  the  platform  on  which  it  usually 
stood,  and  now  occupied  a  corner  on  the  men's 
side  of  the  house.  It  was  used  as  a  seat  by 
two  or  three,  who  wished  to  be  near  the  front, 
and  at  the  same  time  keep  an  eye  on  the  rest 
of  the  assemblage.  The  local  preacher  stood 
on  the  edge  of  the  platform,  beating  time 
gently  with  his  hymn  book,  but  not  singing,  as 
he  had  neither  voice  nor  ear  for  music,  and 
happily  recognized  the  fact.  The  singing  was 
led  by  a  man  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

At  the  back  of  the  platform,  near  the  wall, 
were  two  chairs,  on  one  of  which  sat  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Benderson,  who  was  to  conduct  the  revival. 
He  was  a  stout,  powerful-looking  man,  but 
Yates  could  not  see  his  face,  for  it  was  buried 
in  his  hands,  his  head  being  bowed  in  silent 
prayer.  It  was  generally  understood  that  he 
had  spent  a  youth  of  fearful  wickedness,  and 
he  always  referred  to  himself  as  a  brand 
snatched  from  the  burning.  It  was  even  hinted 
that  at  one  time  he  had  been  a  card  player, 
but  no  one  knew  this  for  a  fact.  Many  of  the 
local  preachers  had  not  the  power  of  exhorta- 
tion, therefore  a  man  like  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bender- 
son,  who  had  that  gift  abnormally  developed, 
was  too  valuable  to  be  localized ;  so  he  spent 
the  year  going  from  place  to  place,  sweeping, 
driving,  coaxing,  or  frightening  into  the  fold 
those  stray  sheep  that  hovered  on  the  outskirts ; 
once  they  were  within  the  religious  ring-fence 
the  local  minister  was  supposed  to  keep  them 
there.  The  latter,  who  had  given  out  the 
hymn,  was  a  man  of  very  different  caliber. 
He  was  tall,  pale,  and  thin,  and  his  long  black 
coat  hung  on  him  as  if  it  were  on  a  post.  When 
the  hymn  was  finished,  and  everyone  sat  down, 


11 


I* 


t,l, 


146 


•ffn  tbe  /lB(D0t  of  Blarms. 


Yates,  and  those  with  him,  found  seats  as  best 
they  could  at  the  end  near  the  door.  This  was 
the  portion  of  the  hall  where  the  scoffers 
assembled,  but  it  was  also  the  portion  which 
yielded  most  fruit,  if  the  revival  happened  to 
be  a  successful  one.  Yates,  seeing  the  place  so 
full,  and  noticing  two  empty  benches  up  at  the 
front,  asked  the  whittler  why  they  were  net 
occupied. 

"  They'll  be  occupied  pretty  soon." 

"  Who  are  they  being  kept  for  ?  " 

"Perhaps  you,  perhaps  me,  perhaps  both  of 
us.  You  never  can  tell.  That's  the  penitents' 
bench." 

The  local  preacher  knelt  on  the  platform, 
and  offered  up  a  prayer.  He  asked  the  Lord 
to  bless  the  efforts  of  the  brother  who  was  with 
them  there  that  night,  and  to  crown  his  labors 
with  success ;  through  his  instrumentality  to 
call  many  wandering  sinners  iiome.  There 
were  cries  of  "  Amen  "  and  "  Bless  the  Lord  " 
from  different  parts  of  the  hall  as  the  prayer 
was  being  made.  On  rising,  another  hymn  was 
given  01' t: 

**  Joy  to  the  world,  the  Lord  is  come. 
Let  earth  receive  her  King." 

The  leader  of  the  singing  started  it  too  low. 
The  tune  began  high,  and  ran  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  scale  by  the  time  it  reached  the 
end  of  the  first  line.  When  the  congregation 
had  got  two-thirds  of  the  way  down,  they  found 
they  could  go  no  farther,  not  even  those  who  sang 
bass.  The  leader,  in  some  confusion ,  had  to  pitch 
the  tune  higher,  and  his  miscalculation  was 
looked  upon  as  exceedingly  funny  by  the  reckless 
spirits  at  the  back  of  the  hall.  The  door  opened 
quietly^  and  they  all  turned  expecting  to  see 
Macdonald,  but  it  was  only  Sandy.  He  had 
washed  his  face  with  but  indifferent  success, 


f  n  tbe  jfflbfdet  of  Blarms. 


147 


and  the  bulge  in  his  cheek,  hke  a  wen,  showed 
that  he  had  not  abandoned  tobacco  on  entering 
the  schoolhouse.  He  tiptoed  to  a  place  be- 
side his  friends. 

"  The  old  man's  outside,"  he  whispered  to 
the  youth  who  sat  nearest  him,  holding  his 
hand  to  the  side  of  his  mouth  so  that  the  sound 
would  not  travel.  Catching  sight  of  Yates,  he 
winked  at  him  in  a  friendly  sort  of  way. 

The  hymn  gathered  volume  and  spirit  as  it 
went  on,  gradually  recovering  fron  the  misad- 
venture at  starting.  When  it  vas  finished, 
the  preacher  sat  down  beside  the  revivalist. 
His  part  of  the  work  was  done,  as  there  was 
no  formal  introduction  of  speaker  to  audience 
to  be  gone  through.  The  other  remained  as  he 
was,  with  bowed  head,  for  what  appeared  to  be 
a  long  time. 

A  deep  silence  fell  on  all  present.  Even  the 
whisperings  among  the  scoffers  ceased. 

At  last  Mr.  Benderson  slowly  raised  his  head, 
arose,  and  came  to  the  front  of  the  platform. 
He  had  a  strong,  masterful,  clean-shaven  face, 
with  the  heavy  jaw  of  a  stubborn  man — a  man 
not  easily  beaten.  "  Open  the  door,"  he  said  in 
a  quiet  voice. 

In  the  last  few  meetings  he  had  held  he  had 
found  this  an  effective  beginning.  It  was  new 
to  his  present  audience.  Usually  a  knot  of 
people  stood  outside,  and  if  they  were  there,  he 
made  an  appeal  to  them,  through  the  open  door, 
to  enter.  If  no  one  was  there,  he  had  a  lesson 
to  impart,  based  on  the  silence  and  the  dark- 
ness. In  this  instance  it  was  hard  to  say  which 
was  the  more  surprised,  the  revivalist  or  the 
congregation.  Sandy,  being  on  his  feet,  stepped 
to  the  door,  and  threw  it  open.  He  was  so 
astonished  at  what  he  saw  that  he  slid  behind 
the  open  door  out  of  sight.  Macdonald  stood 
there,  against  the  darkness  beyond,  in  a  crouch- 


.t 


wmm 


N 


ft  I 


) 


IN 
W 

\   if 


■i 


I) 


,i 


148 


lln  tbe  /iBiDat  of  Blarms. 


ing  attitude,  as  if  about  to  spring.  He  had 
evidently  been  trying  to  see  what  was  going  on 
through  the  keyhole  ;  and,  being  taken  una- 
wares by  the  sudden  opening  of  the  door,  had 
not  had  time  to  recover  himself.  No  retreat 
was  now  possible.  He  stood  up  with  haggard 
face,  like  a  man  who  has  been  on  a  spree,  and, 
without  a  word,  walked  in.  Those  on  the 
bench  in  front  of  Yates  moved  together  a  little 
closer,  and  the  blacksmith  sat  down  on  the 
vacant  space  left  at  the  outside.  In  his  con- 
fusion he  drew  his  hand  across  his  l)row,  and 
snapped  his  fingers  loudly  in  the  silence.  A 
few  faces  at  the  back  wore  a  grin,  and  would 
h?ve  laughed  had  not  Sandy,  closing  the  door 
q'  .elly,  given  them  one  menacing  look  which 
quelled  their  merriment.  He  was  not  going  to 
have  the  "  old  man  "  made  fun  of  in  his  extrem- 
ity ;  and  they  all  had  respect  enough  for  Sandy's 
fist  not  to  run  the  ri-^k  of  encountering  it  after 
the  meeting  was  over.  Macdonald  himself  was 
more  to  be  dreaded  in  a  fight ;  but  the  chances 
were  that  for  the  next  two  or  three  weeks,  if  the 
revival  were  a  success,  there  would  be  no  danger 
from  that  quarter.  Sandy,  however,  was  per- 
manently among  the  unconverted,  and  therefore 
to  be  feared,  as  being  always  ready  to  stand  up 
for  his  employer,  either  with  voice  or  blow. 
The  unexpected  incident  Mr.  Benderson  had 
witnessed  suggested  no  remarks  at  the  time, 
so,  being  a  wise  man,  he  said  nothing.  The 
congregation  wondered  how  he  had  known 
Macdonald  was  at  the  door,  and  none  more 
than  Macdonald  himself.  It  seemed  to  many 
that  the  revivalist  had  a  gift  of  divination  denied 
to  themselves,  and  this  belief  left  them  in  a 
frame  of  mind  more  than  ever  ready  to  profit  by 
the  discourse  they  were  about  to  hear. 

Mr.  Benderson  began   in   a  low  monotone, 
that   nevertheless  penetrated  to  every  part  of 


I 


N 


•ffn  tbc  USsi^6t  of  Blarms. 


149 


the  room.  He  had  a  voice  of  peculiar  quality, 
as  sweet  as  the  tones  of  a  tenor,  and  as  pleasant 
to  hear  as  music  ;  now  and  then  there  was  a 
manly  ring  in  it  which  tlirilled  his  listeners. 
"  A  week  ago  to-night,"  he  said,  "  at  this  very 
hour,  I  stood  by  the  deathbed  of  one  who  is 
now  among  the  blessed.  It  is  four  years  since 
he  found  salvation,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  through 
the  humble  instrumentality  of  the  least  of  his 
servants.  It  was  my  blessed  privilege  to  see 
that  young  man — that  boy  almost — pledge  his 
soul  to  Jesus.  He  was  less  than  twenty  when 
he  gave  himself  to  Christ,  and  his  hopes  of  a 
long  life  were  as  strong  as  the  hopes  of  the 
youngest  here  to-night.  Yet  he  was  struck 
-'""wn  in  the  early  flush  of  manhood — struck 
down  almost  without  warning.  When  I  heard 
of  his  brief  illness,  although  knowing  nothing 
of  its  seriousness,  something  urged  me  to  go 
to  him,  and  at  once.  When  I  reached  the  house, 
they  told  me  that  he  had  asked  to  see  me,  and 
that  they  had  just  sent  a  messenger  to  the 
telegraph  office  with  a  dispatch  for  me.  I 
said:  'God  telegraphe  '  *o  me.'  They  took 
me  to  the  bedside  of  m^  ^oung  friend,  whom  I 
had  last  seen  as  hearty  and  strong  as  anyone 
here." 

Mr.  Benderson  then,  in  a  voice  quivering  with 
emotion,  told  the  story  of  the  deathbed  scene. 
His  language  was  simple  and  touching,  and  it 
was  evident  to  the  most  callous  auditor  that  he 
spoke  from  the  heart,  describing  in  pathetic 
words  the  scene  he  had  witnessed.  His  un- 
adorned eloquence  went  straight  home  to  every 
listener,  and  many  an  eye  dimmed  as  he  put 
before  them  a  graphic  picture  of  the  serenity 
attending  the  end  of  a  well-spent  life. 

"  As  I  came  through  among  you  to-night," 
he  continued,  "  as  you  stood  together  in  groups 
outside  this  building,  I  caught  a  chance  expres- 


■c  ta 


I 


. 


150 


f  n  tbe  OsitfBt  of  Blacme* 


sion  that  one  of  you  uttered.  A  man  was 
speaking  of  some  neighbor  who,  at  this  busy 
season  of  the  year,  had  been  unable  to  get 
help.  I  think  the  one  to  whom  this  man  wa' 
speaking  had  asked  if  the  busy  man  were  here, 
and  the  answer  was  :  '  No  ;  he  has  not  a  minute 
to  call  his  own.'  The  phrase  has  haunted  me 
since  I  heard  it,  less  than  an  hour  ago.  '  Not 
a  minute  to  call  his  own  ! '  I  thought  of  it  as 
I  sat  before  you.  I  thought  of  it  as  I  rose  to 
address  you.  I  think  of  it  now.  Who  has  a 
minute  to  call  his  own  ?  "  The  soft  tones  of 
the  preacher's  voice  had  given  place  to  a  ring- 
ing cry  that  echoed  from  the  roof  down  on 
their  heads.  "  Have  you  ?  Have  I  ?  Has  any 
king,  any  prince,  any  president,  any  ruler  over 
men,  a  minute  or  a  moment  he  can  call  his 
own  ?  Not  one.  Not  one  of  all  the  teeming 
millions  on  this  earth.  The  minutes  that  are 
past  are  yours.  What  use  have  you  made  of 
them  ?  All  your  efforts,  all  your  prayers,  will 
not  change  the  deeds  done  in  any  one  of  those 
minutes  that  are  past,  and  those  only  are  yours. 
The  chiseled  stone  is  not  more  fixed  than  are 
the  deeds  of  the  minutes  that  are  past.  Their 
record  is  for  you  or  against  you.  But  where 
now  are  those  minutes  of  the  future — those 
minutes  that,  from  this  time  onward,  you  will 
be  able  to  call  your  own  when  they  are  spent  ? 
They  are  in  the  hand  of  God — in  his  hand  to 
give  or  to  withhold.  And  who  can  count  them 
in  the  hand  of  God  ?  Not  you,  not  I,  not  the 
wisest  man  upon  the  earth.  Man  may  number 
the  miles  from  here  to  the  farthest  visible  star ; 
but  he  cannot  tell  you,— j^w  /  I  don't  mean  your 
neighbor,  I  mean  you, — he  cannot  tell  YOU 
whether  your  minutes  are  to  be  one  or  a  thou- 
sand. They  are  doled  out  to  you,  and  you  are 
responsible  for  them.  But  there  will  come  a 
moment, — it  may  be  to-night,  it  may  be  a  year 


•ffn  tbe  /l&(&0t  of  aiarma. 


151 


hence, — when  the  hand  of  God  will  close,  and 
you  will  have  had  your  sum.  Then  time  will 
end  for  you,  and  eternity  begin.  Are  you  pre- 
pared for  that  awful  moment — that  moment 
when  the  last  is  given  you,  and  the  next  with- 
held .'*  What  if  it  came  now  ?  Are  you  pre- 
pared for  it.'*  Are  you  ready  to  welcome  it,  as 
did  our  brother  who  died  at  this  hour  one  short 
week  ago  ?  His  was  not  the  only  deathbed 
I  have  attended.  Some  scenes  have  been  so 
seared  into  my  brain  that  I  can  never  forget 
them.  A  year  ago  I  was  called  to  the  bedside 
of  a  dying  man,  old  in  years  and  old  in  sin. 
Often  had  he  been  called,  but  he  put  Christ 
away  from  him,  saying:  '  At  a  more  convenient 
season.'  He  knew  the  path,  but  he  walked  not 
thereii;.  And  when  at  last  God's  patience 
ended,  dUd  this  man  was  stricken  down,  he, 
foolish  to  the  last,  called  for  me,  the  servant, 
instead  of  to  God,  the  Master.  When  I  reached 
his  side,  the  stamp  of  death  was  on  his  face. 
The  biting  finger  of  agony  had  drawn  lines 
upon  his  haggard  brow.  A  great  fear  was 
upon  him,  and  he  gripped  my  hand  with  the 
cold  grasp  of  death  itself.  In  that  darkened 
room  it  seemed  to  me  I  saw  the  angel  of  peace 
standing  by  the  bed,  but  it  stood  aloof,  as  one 
often  offended.  It  seemed  to  me  at  the  head 
of  the  bed  the  demon  of  eternal  darkness  bent 
over,  whispering  to  him  :  '  It  is  too  late !  it  is 
too  late  ! '  The  dying  man  looked  at  me — oh, 
such  a  look  !  May  you  never  be  called  upon  to 
witness  its  like.  He  gasped :  '  I  have  lived — I 
have  lived  a  sinful  life.  Is  it  too  late.?  '  '  No,' 
I  said,  trembling.  '  Say  you  believe.'  His  lips 
moved,  but  no  sound  came.  He  died  as  he  had 
lived.  The  one  necessary  minute  was  withheld. 
Do  you  hear  ?  // — was — withheld!  He  had 
not  the  minute  to  call  his  own.  Not  that 
minute  in  which  to  turn  from  everlasting  dam™ 


^ 


^ 


I 


152 


•ffn  tbc  /IRt50t  of  Blarma. 


V'l\i 


nation.  He— went — down  into — ^e//,  dying 
as  he  had  lived." 

The  preacher's  voice  roie  intil  it  sounded 
like  a  trumpet  blast.  His  eve .  shone,  and  his 
face  flushed  with  the  fervo.  of  his  theme. 
Then  followed,  as  rapidly  as  words  could  utter, 
a  lurid,  awful  picture  of  hell  and  the  day  of 
judgment.  Sobs  and  groans  were  heard  in 
every  part  of  the  room.  "  Come — now — now  /" 
he  cried.  "  Now  is  the  appointed  time,  now  is 
the  day  of  salvation.  Come  now  ;  and  as  you 
rise  pray  God  that  in  his  mercy  he  may  spare  you 
strength  and  life  to  reach  the  penitent  bench." 

Suddenly  the  preacher  ceased  talking. 
Stretching  out  his  hands,  he  broke  forth,  with 
his  splendid  tenor  voice,  into  the  rousing  hymn, 
with  its  spirited  marching  time : 


¥ 


^ 


Come,   ;  ye      sin  •  ners, 
}e,  •  -sus'.    ifcad  >  y 


poor      and      need  •  y. 
sunds       to       save       yoiu 


-<s> 


fWcaH 

find 

,  wound -ed, 

sick 

and 

'  sore ; 

FuD^ 

•of 

pit    --  y, 

lovCj 

and 

power. 

J    'v; 


The  whole  congregation  joined  him.  Everyone 
knew  the  words  and  the  tune.  It  seemed  a 
relief  to  the  pent-up  feelings  to  sing  at  the  top 
of  the  voice.  The  chorus  rose  like  a  triumphal 
march : 


m 


m 


s 


t 


^ 


^ 


? 


Turn     to     the  Lord,      and     seek     'sal  •  'va  •  Uon, 


P 


^ 


? 


22 


Sound        the    praise 


of     'His      dear      Namei' 


tin  tbe  /lB(D0t  ot  Blarma. 


153 


i 


:^ 


:i 


^ 


m 


Glo 


ry,     hon    -    our, 


and 


sal 


va 


tion, 


m 


m 


Christ  .    the        Lord     has 


come 


to 


reign. 


As  the  congregation  sang  the  preacher  in 
stentorian  tones  urged  sinners  to  seek  the  Lord 
while  he  was  yet  to  be  found. 

Yates  felt  the  electric  thrill  in  the  air,  an  he 
tugged  at  his  collar,  as  if  he  were  choking.  He 
could  not  understand  the  strange  exaltation  that 
had  come  over  him.  It  seemed  as  if  he  must 
cry  aloud.  All  those  around  him  were  much 
moved.  There  were  now  no  scoffers  at  the  back 
of  the  room.  Most  of  them  seemed  frightened, 
and  sat  looking  one  at  the  other.  It  only 
needed  a  beginning,  and  the  penitent  bench 
would  be  crowded.  Many  eyes  were  turned  on 
Macdonald.  His  face  was  livid,  and  great 
beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  brow.  His 
strong  hand  clutched  the  back  of  the  seat  be- 
fore him,  and  the  muscles  stood  out  on  the 
portion  of  his  arm  that  was  bare.  He  stared 
like  a  hypnotized  man  at  the  preacher.  His 
teeth  were  set,  and  he  breathed  hard,  as  would 
a  man  engaged  in  a  struggle.  At  last  the  hand 
of  the  preacher  seemed  to  be  pointed  directly  at 
him.  He  rose  tremblingly  to  his  feet  and  stag- 
gered down  the  aisle,  flinging  himself  on  his 
knees,  with  his  head  on  his  arms,  beside  the 
penitent  bench,  groaning  aloud. 

"  Bless  the  Lord  !  "  cried  the  preacher. 

It  was  the  starting  of  the  avalanche.  Up  the 
aisle,  with  pale  faces,  many  with  tears  stream- 
ing from  their  eyes,  walked  the  young  men  and 
the  old.  Mothers,  with  joy  in  their  hearts  and 
a  prayer  on  their  lips,  saw  their  sons  fall  pros- 


11 


154        fn  tbe  ^(&0t  of  Blarme. 

trate  before  the  penitent  bench.  Soon  the  con- 
trite had  to  kneel  wherever  they  could.  The 
ringing  salvation  march  filled  the  air,  mingled 
with  cries  of  joy  and  devout  ejaculations. 

"  God  !  "  cried  Yates,  tearing  off  his  collar, 
"  what  is  the  matter  with  me  ?  I  never  felt  like 
this  before.     I  must  get  into  the  open  air." 

He  made  for  the  door,  and  escaped  un- 
noticed in  the  excitement  of  the  moment.  He 
stood  for  a  time  by  the  fence  outside,  breathing 
deeply  of  the  cool,  sweet  air.  The  sound  of 
the  hymn  came  faintly  to  nim.  He  clutched 
the  fence,  fearing  he  was  about  to  faint.  Par- 
tially recovering  himself  at  last,  he  ran  with  all 
his  might  up  the  road,  while  there  rang  in  his 
ears  the  marching  words  : 


^ 


W- 


Turn      to     tbe  Lord,      and     seek       sal   •  va 


«ion. 


^ 


S 


22t 


Sound.        lH&   praise         t>t      His       dear       Kame. 


± 


^ 


3 


3h*-^ 


3 


Glo    •    ry      boa  "  ouri       <ah<i       veal   •   va  •   tion, 


zMz 


W=3t 


-<S' 


Christ       tbe        Lor^     has      come 


tQ 


reign. 


•  h    I 


;'i,> 


"1    ,1 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

When  people  are  thrown  together,  especially 
when  they  are  young,  the  mutual  relationship 
existing  between  them  rarely  remains  stationary. 
It  drifts  toward  like  or  dislike  ;  and  cases  have 
been  known  where  it  progressed  into  love  or 
hatred. 

Stillson  Renmark  and  Margaret  Howard  be- 
came at  least  very  firm  friends.  Each  of  them 
would  have  been  ready  to  admit  this  much. 
These  two  had  a  good  foundation  on  which  to 
build  up  an  acquaintance  in  the  fact  that  Mar- 
garet's brother  was  a  student  in  the  univer- 
sity of  which  the  professor  was  a  worthy  mem- 
ber. They  had  also  a  subject  of  difference, 
which,  if  it  leads  not  to  heated  argument,  but  is 
soberly  discussed,  lends  itself  even  more  to  the 
building  of  friendship  than  subjects  of  agree- 
ment. Margaret  held,  as  has  been  indicated 
in  a  previous  chapter,  that  the  university  was 
wrong  in  closing  its  doors  to  women.  Ren- 
mark, up  to  the  time  of  their  first  conversation 
on  the  subject,  had  given  the  matter  but  little 
thought ;  yet  he  developed  an  opinion  contrary 
to  that  of  Margaret,  and  was  too  honest  a  man, 
or  too  little  of  a  diplomatist,  to  conceal  it.  On 
one  occasion  Yates  had  been  present,  and  he 
threw  himself,  with  the  energy  that  distin- 
guished him,  into  the  woman  side  of  the  question 
— cordially  agreeing  wMth  Margaret,  citing  in- 
stances, and  holding  those  who  were  against 
the  admission  of  women  up  to  ridicule,  taunt- 

155 


i 


156 


ITn  tbc  /IRiDst  ot  Blarma. 


1 


;  \ 


s 


i; 


\i 


ing  them  with  fear  of  feminine  competition. 
Margaret  became  silent  as  the  champion  of  her 
cause  waxed  the  more  eloquent ;  but  whether 
she  liked  Richard  Yates  the  better  for  his 
cham^^ionship  who  that  is  not  versed  in  the 
ways  of  wonien  can  say  ?  As  the  hope  of  win- 
ning her  regard  was  the  sole  basis  of  Yates' 
uncompromising  views  on  the  subject,  it  is 
likely  that  he  was  successful,  for  his  experiences 
with  the  sex  were  large  and  varied.  Margaret 
was  certainly  attracted  toward  Renmark,  whose 
deep  scholarship  even  his  excessive  self-de- 
preciation could  not  entirely  conceal ;  and  he, 
in  turn,  had  naturally  a  schoolmaster's  enthu- 
siasm over  a  pupil  who  so  earnestly  desired  ad- 
vancement in  knowledge.  Had  he  described 
his  feelings  to  Yates,  who  was  an  expert  in 
many  matters,  he  would  perhaps  have  learned 
that  he  was  in  love  ;  but  Renmark  was  a  reti- 
cent man,  not  much  given  either  to  introspec- 
tion or  to  being  lavish  with  his  confidences. 
As  to  Margaret,  who  can  plummet  the  depth 
of  a  young  girl's  regard  until  she  herself  gives 
some  indication  ?  All  that  one  is  able  to  re- 
cord is  that  she  was  kinder  to  Yates  than  she 
had  been  at  the  beginning. 

Miss  Kitty  Bartlett  probably  would  not  have 
denied  that  she  had  a  sincere  liking  for  the  con- 
ceited young  man  from  New  York.  Renmark 
fell  into  the  error  of  thinking  Miss  Kitty  a  frivo- 
lous young  person,  whereas  she  was  merely  a 
girl  who  had  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  high 
spirits,  and  one  who  took  a  most  deplorable 
pleasure  in  shocking  a  serious  man.  Even 
Yates  made  a  slight  mistake  regarding  her  on 
one  occasion,  when  they  were  having  an  even- 
ing walk  together,  with  that  freedom  from 
chaperonage  which  is  the  birthright  of  every 
American  girl,  whether  she  belongs  to  a  farm- 
house or  to  the  palace  of  a  millionaire. 


it 


Mi: 


f n  tbe  A^fOat  ot  Blarms* 


157 


re- 
she 


In  describing  the  incident  afterward  to  Ren- 
mark  (for  Yates  had  nothing  of  his  comrade's 
reserve  in  these  matters)  he  said  : 

'*  She  left  a  diagram  of  her  four  fingers  on 
my  cheel<  that  felt  like  one  of  those  raised  maps 
of  Switzerland.  I  have  before  now  felt  the  tap 
of  a  lady's  fan  in  admonition,  but  never  in  my 
life  have  I  met  a  gentle  reproof  that  fe't  so 
much  like  a  censure  from  the  paw  of  our  friend 
Tom  Sayers." 

Renmark  said  with  some  severity  that  he 
hoped  Yates  would  not  forget  that  he  was,  in  a 
measure,  a  guest  of  his  neighbors. 

••  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Yates.  "  If  you 
have  any  spare  sympathy  to  bestow,  keep  it  for 
me.  My  neighbors  are  amply  able,  and  more 
than  willing,  to  take  care  of  themselves." 

And  now  as  to  Richard  Yates  himself.  One 
would  imagine  that  here,  at  least,  a  conscien- 
tious relater  of  events  would  have  an  easy  task. 
Alas  !  such  is  far  from  being  the  fact.  The  case 
of  Yates  was  by  all  odds  the  most  complex  and 
bewildering  of  the  four.  He  was  deeply  and 
truly  in  love  with  both  of  the  girls.  Instances  of 
this  kind  are  not  so  rare  as  a  young  man  newly 
engaged  to  an  innocent  girl  tries  to  make  her 
believe.  Cases  have  been  known  where  a 
chance  meeting  with  one  girl,  and  not  with 
another,  has  settled  who  was  to  be  a  young 
man's  companion  during  a  long  life.  Yates 
felt  that  in  multitude  of  counsel  there  is  wisdom, 
and  made  no  secret  of  his  perplexity  to  his 
friend.  He  complained  sometimes  that  he  got 
little  help  toward  the  solution  of  the  problem, 
but  generally  he  was  quite  content  to  sit  under 
the  trees  with  Renmark  and  weigh  the  different 
advantages  of  each  of  the  girls.  He  sometimes 
appealed  to  his  friend,  as  a  man  with  a  mathe- 
matical tur».  of  mind,  possessing  an  education 
that  extended  far  into  conic  sections  and  alge- 


158 


•ffn  tbc  lKsit>et  ot  Blarma. 


c,!, 


braic  formulae,  to  balance  up  the  lists,  and  give 
him  a  candid  and  statistical  opinion  as  to  which 
of  the  two  he  should  favor  with  serious  pro- 
posals. When  these  appeals  for  help  were 
coldly  received,  he  accused  his  friend  of  lack  of 
sympathy  with  his  dilemma,  said  that  he  was 
a  soulless  man,  and  that  if  he  had  a  heart  it 
had  become  incrusted  with  the  useless  debris 
of  a  higher  education,  and  swore  to  confide  in 
him  no  more.  He  would  search  for  a  friend, 
he  said,  who  had  something  human  about  him. 
The  search  for  the  sympathetic  friend,  however, 
seemed  to  be  unsuccessful  ;  for  Yates  always  re- 
turned to  Renmark,  to  have,  as  he  remarked,  ice 
water  dashed  upon  his  duplex-burning  passion. 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon  in  the  latter  part  of 
May,  1866,  and  Yates  was  swinging  idly  in  the 
hammock,  with  his  hands  clasped  under  his  head, 
gazing  dreamily  up  at  the  patches  of  blue  sky 
seen  through  the  green  branches  of  the  trees 
overhead,  while  his  industrious  friend  was  un- 
romantically  peeling  potatoes  near  the  door  of 
the  tent. 

"  The  human  heart,  Renny,"  said  the  man 
in  the  hammock  reflectively,  "  is  a  remarkable 
organ,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it.  I  pre- 
sume, from  your  lack  of  interest,  that  you 
haven't  given  the  subject  much  study,  except, 
perhaps,  in  a  physiological  way.  At  the  present 
moment  it  is  to  me  the  only  theme  worthy  of  a 
man's  entire  attention.  Perhaps  that  is  the  result 
of  spring,  as  the  poet  says  ;  but,  anyhow,  it  pre- 
sents new  aspects  to  me  each  hour.  Now,  I  have 
made  this  important  discovery  :  that  the  girl  I 
am  with  last  seems  to  me  the  most  desirable. 
That  is  contrary  to  the  observation  of  philoso- 
phers of  bygone  days.  Absence  makes  the 
heart  grow  fonder,  they  say.  I  don't  find  it  so. 
Presence  is  what  plays  the  very  deuce  with  me. 
Now,  how  do  you  account  for  it,  Stilly  ?  " 


lf 


i! 


\ 


Ifn  tbe  jflBiO0t  ot  Blarma. 


159 


pre- 
have 

girl  I 

Table. 

liloso- 
the 
it  so. 

:h  me. 


The  professor  did  not  attempt  to  account  for 
it,  but  silently  attended  to  the  business  in  hand, 
Yates  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  sky,  and  fixed 
them  on  the  professor,  waiting  for  the  answer 
that  did  not  come. 

'•  Mr.  Renmark,"  he  drawled  at  last,  "  I  am 
convinced  that  your  treatment  of  the  potato  i<? 
a  mistake.  I  think  potatoes  should  not  ht 
peeled  the  day  before,  and  left  to  soak  in  cold 
water  until  to-morrow's  dinner.  Of  course  I 
admire  the  industry  that  gets  work  well  over 
before  its  results  are  called  for.  Nothing  is 
more  annoying  than  work  left  untouched  until 
the  last  moment,  and  then  hurriedly  done. 
Still,  virtue  may  be  carried  to  excess,  and  a  man 
may  be  too  previous." 

"  Well,  I  am  quite  willing  to  relinquish  the 
work  into  your  hands.  You  may  perhaps  re- 
member that  for  two  days  I  have  been  doing 
your  share  as  well  as  my  own." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  complaining  about  //m/,  at 
all,"  said  the  hammock  magnanimously.  "  You 
are  acquiring  practical  knowledge,  Renny,  that 
will  be  of  more  use  to  you  than  all  the  learning 
taught  at  the  schools.  My  only  desire  is  that 
your  education  should  be  as  complete  as  pos- 
sible, and  to  this  end  I  am  willing  to  sub- 
ordinate my  own  yearning  desire  for  scullery 
work.  I  should  suggest  that,  instead  of  going 
to  the  trouble  of  entirely  removing  the  covering 
of  the  potato  in  that  laborious  way,  you  should 
merely  peel  a  belt  around  its  greatest  circum- 
ference.. Then,  rather  than  cook  the  potatoes 
in  the  slow  and  soggy  manner  that  seems  to 
delight  you,  you  should  boil  them  quickly,  with 
some  salt  placed  in  the  water.  The  remaining 
coat  would  then  curl  outward,  and  the  resulting 
potato  would  be  white  and  dry  and  mealy,  in- 
stead of  being  in  the  condition  of  a  wet  sponge." 

"  The  beauty  of  a  precept,  Yates,  is  the  illus- 


1)1 


i6o 


•ffn  tbe  ^iD0t  of  Blarms, 


« .' 


r", 


IV    I 


m 


',1      I 


trating  of  it.  If  you  are  not  satisfied  with  my 
way  of  boiling  potatoes,  give  me  a  practical 
object  lesson." 

The  man  in  the  hammock  sighed  reproach- 
fully. 

"Of  course  an  unimaginative  person  like  you, 
Renmark,  cannot  realize  the  cruelty  of  suggest- 
ing that  a  man  as  deeply  in  love  as  I  am  should 
demean  himself  by  attending  to  the  prosaic 
details  of  household  affairs.  I  am  doubly  in 
love,  and  much  more,  therefore,  as  that  old 
bore  Euclid  used  to  say,  is  your  suggestion 
unkind  and  uncalled  for." 

"  All  right,  then  ;  don't  criticise." 

'*  Yes,  there  is  a  certain  sweet  reasonableness 
in  your  curt  suggestion.  A  man  who  is  unable, 
or  unwilling,  to  work  in  the  vineyard  should  not 
find  fiult  with  the  pickers.  And  now.  Re  nny, 
for  the  hundredth  time  of  asking,  add  to  the 
many  obligations  already  conferred,  and  tell  me, 
Hke  the  good  fellow  you  are,  what  you  would  do 
if  you  were  in  my  place.  To  which  of  those 
two  charming,  but  luially  unlike,  girls  would 
you  give  the  preference  ?  " 

"  Damn  !  "  said  the  professor  quietly. 

"  Hello,  Renny  !  "  cried  Yates,  raising  his 
head.  "  Have  you  cut  your  finger  }  I  should 
have  warned  you  about  using  too  sharp  a  knife." 

But  the  professor  had  not  cut  his  finger. 
His  use  of  the  word  given  above  is  not  to  be 
defended  ;  still,  as  it  was  spoken  by  him,  it 
seemed  to  lose  all  relationship  with  swearing. 
He  said  it  quietly,  mildly,  and,  in  a  certain 
sense,  innocently.  He  was  astonished  at  him- 
self for  using  it,  but  there  had  been  moments 
during  the  past  few  days  when  the  ordinary 
expletives  used  in  the  learned  volumes  of  higher 
mathematics  did  not  fit  the  occasion. 

Before  anything  more  could  be  said  there 
was  a  shout  from  the  roadway  near  them. 


tn  the  AbiDat  of  Blarme, 


i6i 


l 


u 


"  Is  Richard  Yates  there  ?  "  hailed  the  voice. 

"  Yes.  Who  wants  him  ?  "  cried  Yates, 
springing   out   of   the   hammock. 

"  I  do,"  said  a  young  fellow  on  horseback. 
He  threw  himself  off  a  tired  horse,  tied  the 
animal  to  a  sapling, — which,  judging  by  the 
horse's  condition,  was  an  entirely  unneces- 
sary operation, — jumped  over  the  rail  fence,  and 
approached  through  the  woods.  The  young 
men  saw,  coming  toward  them,  a  tall  lad  in  the 
uniform  of  the  telegraph  service. 

"I'm  Yates.     What  is  it?" 

"  Well,"  said  the  lad,  "  I've  had  a  hunt  and  a 
half  for  you.     Here's  a  telegram." 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  find  out  where  I 
was  ?     Nobody  has  my  address." 

"  That's  just  the  troul)le.  It  would  have 
saved  somebody  in  New  York  a  pile  of  money 
if  you  had  left  it.  No  man  ought  to  go  to  the 
woods  without  leaving  his  address  at  a  tele- 
graph office,  anyhow."  The  young  man  1.  ^ked 
at  the  world  from  a  telegraph  point  of  view. 
People  vv^ere  good  or  bad  according  to  the 
trouble  they  gave  a  telegraph  messenger. 
Yates  took  the  yellow  envelope,  addressed  in 
lead  pencil,  but,  without  opening  it,  repeated  his 
question  : 

"  But  how  on  earth  did  you  find  me  ?  " 

"Well,  it  wasn't  easy,"  said  the  boy.  "My 
horse  is  about  done  out.  I'm  from  Buffalo. 
They  telegraphed  from  New  York  that  we  were 
to  spare  no  expense ;  and  we  haven't.  There 
are  seven  other  fellows  scouring  the  country  on 
horseback  with  duplicates  of  that  dispatch,  and 
somj  more  have  gone  along  the  lake  shore  on 
the  American  side.  Say,  no  other  messenger 
has  been  here  before  me,  has  he  ?  "  asked  the 
boy  with  a  touch  of  anxiety  in  his  voice. 

"  No  ;  you  are  the  first." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that.     I've  been  'most  all  cv^er 


1 62 


•ffn  tbe  ^(&0t  of  Blarme, 


.*   f 


WmMu*    '■ 

■iff'' 

i 

11 

1 

S  ,  '^ 

V. 

f 

4 

Canada.  I  got  on  your  trail  about  two  hours 
ago,  and  the  folks  at  the  farmhouse  down 
below  said  you  were  up  here.  Is  there  any 
answer  ?  " 

Yates  tore  open  the  envelope, 
was   long,  and   he   read   it   with 
frown.    It  was  to  this  effect : 


The  dispatch 
a  deepening 


'•  Fenians  crossing  into  Canada  at  Buffalo, 
near  the  spot ;  get  there  as  quick  as  possible 


You  are 
Five  of 
our  men  leave  for  Buffalo  to-night.  General  O'Neill 
is  in  command  of  Fenian  army.  He  will  give  you 
every  facility  when  you  tell  him  who  you  are.  When 
five  arrive,  they  will  report  to  you.  Place  one  or  two 
with  Canadian  troops.  Get  one  to  hold  the  telegraph 
wire,  and  send  over  all  the  stuff  the  wire  will  carry. 
Draw  on  us  for  „dsn  you  need ;  and  don't  spare 
expense." 

When  Yates  finished  the  reading  of  this,  he 
broke  forth  into  a  line  of  language  that  aston- 
ished Renmark,  and  drew  forth  the  envious 
admiration  of  the  Buffalo  telegraph  boy. 

"  Heavens  and  earth  and  the  lower  regions  ! 
I'm  here  on  my  vacation.  I'm  not  going  to 
jump  into  work  for  all  the  papers  in  New  York. 
Why  couldn't  those  fools  of  Fenians  stay  at 
home,?  The  idiots  dop.'t  know  when  they're 
well  off.     The  Fenians  be  hanged  ! " 

•'  Guess  that's  what  they  will  be,"  said  the 
telegraph  boy.     "  Any  answer,  sir  ?  " 

"  No.     Tell  'em  you  couldn't  find  me." 

"  Don't  expect  the  boy  to  tell  a  lie,"  said  the 
professor,  speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  a  lie !"  exclaimed  the  boy, 
"  but  not  that  one.  No,  sir.  I've  had  too  much 
trouble  finding  you.  I'm  not  going  to  pretend 
I'm  no  good.  I  started  out  for  to  find  you,  and 
I  have.  But  I'll  tell  any  other  lie  you  like,  Mr, 
Yates,  if  it  will  oblige  you." 

Yates  recognized  in  the  boy  the  same  emulous 
desire  to  outstrip  his  fellows  that  had  influenced 


Hn  tbe  AbiDet  of  Blarmd. 


163 


himself  when  he  was  a  young  reporter,  and  he 
at  once  admitted  the  injustice  of  attempting  to 
deprive  him  of  the  fruits  of  his  enterprise. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  that  won't  do.  No  ;  you 
have  found  me,  and  you're  a  young  fellow  who 
will  be  president  of  the  telegraph  company 
some  day,  or  perhaps  hold  the  less  important 
office  of  the  United  States  presidency.  Who 
knows  ?     Have  you  a  telegraph  blank  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  boy,  fishing  out  a  bun- 
dle from  the  leathern  wallet  by  his  side.  Yates 
took  the  paper,  and  flung  himself  down  under 
the  tree. 

"  Here's  a  pencil,"  said  the  messenger. 

"  A  newspaper  man  is  never  without  a  pencil, 
thank  you,"  replied  Yates,  taking  one  out  of 
his  inside  pocket.  "  Now,  Renmark,  I'm  not 
going  to  tell  a  lie  on  this  occasion,"  he  con- 
tinued. 

"  I  think  the  truth  is  better  on  all  occa- 
sions." 

"  Right  you  are.  So  here  goes  for  the  solid 
truth." 

Yates,  as  he  lay  on  the  ground,  wrote  rapidly 
on  the  telegraph  blank.  Suddenly  he  looked 
up  and  said  to  the  professor :  "  Say,  Renmark, 
are  you  a  doctor?  " 

"  Of  laws,"  replied  his  friend. 

"Oh,  that  will  do  just  as  well."  And  he 
finished  his  writing. 

•'  How  is  this  ?  "  he  cried,  holding  the  paper 
at  arm's  length  : 


••  L.  F.  Spencer, 

•'  Managing  Editor  ^ Argus,*  New  York  : 
"  I'm  flat  on  my  back.  Haven't  clone  a  hand's  turn 
for  a  week.  Am  under  the  constant  care,  night  and 
day,  of  one  of  the  most  eminent  doctors  in  Canada,  who 
even  prepares  my  food  for  me.  Since  leaving  New 
York  trouble  of  the  heart  has  complicated  matters, 
and  at  present  baffles  the  doctor.     Consultations  daily. 


1 

hi.     i 


I 


f 


*J 


h  ^: 


164 


fin  tbe  ^iDat  of  Blatme* 


It  is  impossible  for  me  to  move  from  here  until  present 
complications  have  yielded  to  treatment. 

"  Simson  would  be  a  good  man  to  take  charge  in  my 
absence.  "  Yates.  ^ 


"  There,"  said  Yates,  with  a  tone  of  satisfac- 
tion, when  he  had  finished  the  reading. 
"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

The  professor  frowned,  but  did  not  answer. 
The  boy,  who  partly  saw  through  it,  but  not 
quite,  grinned,  and  said  :  "  Is  it  true  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it's  true ! "  cried  Yates,  indig- 
nant at  the  unjust  suspicion,  "  It  is  a  great 
deal  more  true  than  you  have  any  idea  of.  Ask 
the  doctor,  there,  if  it  isn't  true.  Now,  my  boy, 
will  you  give  this  in  when  you  get  back  to  the 
office  ?  Tell  'em  to  rush  it  through  to  New 
York.  I  would  mark  it '  rush,'  only  that  never 
does  any  good,  and  always  makes  the  operator 
mad." 

The  boy  took  the  paper,  and  put  it  in  his 
wallet. 

"  It's  to  be  paid  for  at  the  other  end,"  con- 
tinued Yates. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  answered  the  mes- 
senger with  a  certain  condescension,  as  if  he 
were  giving  credit  on  behalf  of  the  company. 
"  Well,  so  long,"  he  added.  "  I  hope  you'll 
soon  be  better,  Mr.  Yates." 

Yates  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  laugh,  and 
followed  him  to  the  fence. 

"  Now,  youngster,  you  are  up  to  snuff,  I  can 
see  that.  They'll  perhaps  question  you  when 
you  get  back.     What  will  you  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  tell  'em  what  a  hard  job  I  had  to 
find  you,  and  let  'em  know  nobody  else  could 
'a'  done  it,  and  I'll  say  you're  a  pretty  sick  man. 
I  won't  tell  'em  you  gave  me  a  dollar  !  " 

"  Right  you  are,  sonny  ;  you  II  get  along. 
Here's  five  dollars,  all  in  one  bill.  If  you  meet 
any  other  of  the  messengers,  take  them  back 


f  n  tbe  fl^i^et  ot  Blarma, 


165 


with  you.  There's  no  use  of  their  wasting 
vakiable  time  in  this  little  neck  of  the  woods." 

The  boy  stuffed  the  bill  into  his  vest  pocket 
as  carelessly  as  if  it  represented  cents  instead  of 
dollars,  mounted  his  tired  horse,  and  waved  his 
hand  in  farewell  to  the  newspaperman.  Yates 
turned  and  walked  slowly  back  to  the  tent.  He 
threw  himself  once  more  into  the  hammock. 
As  he  expected,  the  professor  was  more  taci- 
turn than  ever,  and,  although  he  had  been  pre- 
pared for  silence,  the  silence  irritated  him.  He 
felt  ill  used  at  having  so  unsympathetic  a  com- 
panion. 

"  Look  here,  Renmark ;  why  don't  you  say 
something?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  to  say." 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is.  You  don't  approve  of  me, 
do  you }  " 

"  I  don't  suppose  it  makes  any  difference 
whether  I  approve  or  not." 

"Oh,  yes,  it  does.  A  man  likes  to  have  the 
approval  of  even  the  humblest  of  his  fellow- 
creatures.  Say,  what  will  you  take  in  cash  to 
approve  of  me?  People  talk  of  the  tortures  of 
conscience,  but  you  are  more  uncomfortable 
than  the  most  cast-iron  conscience  any  man 
ever  had.  One's  own  conscience  one  can  deal 
with,  but  a  conscience  in  the  person  of  another 
man  is  beyond  one's  control.  Now,  it  is  like 
this  :  I  am  here  for  quiet  and  rest.  I  have 
earned  both,  and  I  think  I  am  justified  in " 

"  Now,  Mr.  Yates,  please  spare  me  any 
cheap  philosophy  on  the  question.  I  am  tired 
of  it." 

"  And  of  me,  too,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  rather — if  you  want  to  know." 

Yates  sprang  out  of  the  hammock.  For  the 
first  time  since  the  encounter  with  Bartlett  on 
the  road  Renmark  saw  that  he  was  thoroughly 
angry.     The  reporter  stood  with  clenched  fists 


I:' 


i 


i66 


•ffn  tbe  /iBlDBt  of  alarms. 


u 


.    ,! 


and  flashing  eyes,  hesitating.  The  other,  his 
heavy  brows  drawn,  while  not  in  an  aggressive 
attitude,  was  plainly  ready  for  an  attack.  Yates 
concluded  to  speak,  and  not  to  strike.  This 
was  not  because  he  was  afraid,  for  he  was  not 
a  coward.  The  reporter  realized  that  he  had 
forced  the  conversation,  and  remembered  he 
had  invited  Renmark  to  accompany  him.  Al- 
though this  recollection  stayed  his  hand,  it  had 
no  effect  on  his  tongue. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said  slowly,  "  that  it  would  do 
you  good  for  once  to  hear  a  straight,  square, 
unbiased  opinion  of  yourself.  You  have 
associated  so  long  with  pupils,  to  whom  your 
word  is  law,  that  it  may  interest  you  to  know 
what  a  man  of  the  world  thinks  of  you.  A  few 
years  of  schoolmastering  is  enough  to  spoil  an 
archangel.     Now,  I  think,  of  all  the " 

The  sentence  was  interrupted  by  a  cry  from 
the  fence : 

"  Say,  do  you  gentlemen  know  where  a  fellow 
named  Yates  lives  ?  " 

The  reporter's  hand  dropped  to  his  side.  A 
look  of  dismay  came  over  his  face,  and  his 
truculent  manner  changed  with  a  suddenness 
that  forced  a  smile  even  to  the  stern  lips  of 
Renmark. 

Yates  backed  toward  the  hammock  like  a 
man  who  had  received  an  unexpected  blow. 

"  I  say,  Renny,"  he  wailed,  "  it's  another  of 
those  cursed  telegraph  messengers.  Go,  like 
a  good  fellow,  and  sign  for  the  dispatch.  Sign 
it  'Dr.  Renmark,  for  R.  Yates.'  That  will 
give  it  a  sort  of  official,  medical-bulletin  look. 
I  wish  I  had  thought  of  that  when  the  other 
boy  was  here.  Tell  him  I'm  lying  down."  He 
flung  himself  into  the  hammock,  and  Renmark, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  walked  toward  the 
boy  at  the  fence,  who  had  repeated  his  question 
in  a  louder  voice.     In  a  short  time  he  returned 


liii 


4 


f  n  tbe  AbiDdt  ot  Blarmd. 


167 


of 


with  the  yellow  envelope,  which  he  tossed  to 
the  man  in  the  hammock.  Yates  seized  it 
savagely,  tore  it  into  a  score  of  pieces,  and 
scattered  the  fluttering  bits  around  him  on  the 
ground.  The  professor  stood  there  for  a  few 
moments  in  silence. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said  at  last,  "  you'll  be  good 
enough  to  go  on  with  your  remarks." 

"  I  was  merely  going  to  say,"  answered 
Yates  wearily,  "that  you  are  a  mighty  good 
fellow,  Renny.  People  who  camp  out  always 
have  rows.  That  is  our  first ;  suppose  we  let 
it  be  the  last.  Camping  out  is  something  like 
married  life,  I  guess,  and  requires  some  for- 
bearance on  both  sides.  That  philosophy  may 
be  cheap,  but  I  think  it  is  accurate.  I  am  really 
very  much  worried  about  this  newspaper  busi- 
ness. I  ought,  of  course,  to  fling  myself  into 
the  chasm  like  that  Roman  fellow ;  but,  hang 
it !  I've  been  flinging  myself  into  chasms  for 
fifteen  years,  and  what  good  has  it  done? 
There's  always  a  crisis  in  a  daily  newspaper 
office.  I  want  them  to  understand  in  the 
Argils  office  that  I  am  on  my  vacation." 

"  They  will  be  more  apt  to  understand  from 
the  telegram  that  you're  on  your  deathbed." 

Yates  laughed.  "  That's  so,"  he  said  ;  "but, 
you  see,  Renny,  we  New  Yorkers  live  in  such 
an  atmosphere  of  exaggeration  that  if  I  did  not 
put  it  strongly  it  wouldn't  have  any  effect. 
You've  got  to  give  a  big  dose  to  a  man  who 
has  been  taking  poison  all  his  life.  They  will 
take  off  ninety  per  cent,  from  any  statement  I 
make,  anyhow ;  so,  you  see,  I  have  to  pile  it  up 
pretty  high  before  the  remaining  ten  per  cent, 
amounts  to  anything." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
crackling  of  the  dry  twigs  behind  them,  and 
Yates,  who  had  been  keeping  his  eye  nerv- 
ously   on    tho    fence,   turned    round.    Young 


I 


A 


I 


■I 


i68 


•ffn  tbe  Itbi^et  of  Blarmg. 


Bartlett  pushed  his  way  through  the  under- 
brush. His  face  was  red ;  he  had  evidently 
been  running. 

"Two  telegrams  for  you,  Mr.  Yates,"  he 
panted.  "  The  fellows  that  brought  'em  said 
they  were  important ;  so  I  ran  out  with  them 
myself,  for  fear  they  wouldn't  find  you.  One 
of  them's  from  Port  Colborne,  the  other's  from 
Buffalo." 

Telegrams  were  rare  on  the  farm,  and  young 
Bartlett  looked  on  the  receipt  of  one  as  an 
event  in  a  man's  life.  He  was  astonished  to  see 
Yates  receive  the  double  event  with  a  listless- 
ness  that  he  could  not  help  thinking  was  merely 
assumed  for  effect.  Yates  held  them  in  his 
hand,  and  did  not  tear  them  up  at  once  out  of 
consideration  for  the  feelings  of  the  young  man, 
who  had  had  a  race  to  deliver  them. 

"  Here's  two  books  they  wanted  you  to  sign. 
They're  tired  out,  and  p^'other's  giving  them 
something  to  eat." 

"  Professor,  you  sign  for  me,  won't  you  ?  " 
3aid  Yates. 

Bartlett  lingered  a  moment,  hoping  that  he 
would  hear  something  of  the  contents  of  the 
important  messages ;  but  Yates  did  not  even 
open  the  envelopes,  although  he  thanked  the 
young  man  heartily  for  bringing  them. 

"  Stuck-up  cuss  ! "  muttered  young  Bartlett 
to  himself,  as  he  shoved  the  signed  books  into 
his  pocket  and  pushed  his  way  through  the 
underbrush  again.  Yates  slowly  and  methodic- 
ally tore  the  envelopes  and  their  contents  into 
little  pieces,  and  scattered  them  as  before. 

"  Begins  to  look  like  autumn,"  he  said,  "  with 
the  yellow  leaves  strewing  the  ground." 


MtfH 


CHAPTER  XV. 


:\ 


I; 


with 


Before  night  three  more  telegraph  boys 
found  Yates,  and  three  more  telegrams  in  sec- 
tions helped  to  carpet  the  floor  of  the  forest. 
The  usually  high  spirits  of  the  newspaper  man 
went  down  and  down  under  the  repeated 
visitations.  At  last  he  did  not  even  swear, 
which,  in  the  case  of  Yates,  always  indicated 
extreme  depression.  As  night  drew  on  he 
feebly  remarked  to  the  professor  that  he  was 
more  tired  than  he  had  ever  been  in  going 
through  an  election  campaign.  He  went  to  his 
tent  bunk  early,  in  a  state  of  such  utter  dejec- 
tion that  Renmark  felt  sorry  for  him,  and  tried 
ineffectually  to  cheer  him  up. 

"  If  they  would  all  come  together,"  said  Yates 
bitterly,  "  so  that  one  comprehensive  effort  of 
malediction  would  include  the  lot  and  have  it 
over,  it  wouldn't  be  so  bad  ;  but  this  constant 
dribbling  in  of  messengers  would  wear  out  the 
patience  of  a  saint." 

As  he  sat  in  his  shirt  sleeves  on  the  edge  of 
his  bunk  Renmark  said  that  things  would  look 
brighter  in  the  morning — which  was  a  safe 
remark  to  make,  for  the  night  was  dark. 

Yates  sat  silently,  with  his  head  in  his  hands, 
lor  some  moments.  At  last  he  said  slowly  : 
"  There  is  no  one  so  obtuse  as  the  thoroughly 
good  man.  It  is  not  the  messenger  I  am  afraid 
of,  after  all.  He  is  but  the  outward  symptom 
of  the  inward  trouble.  What  you  are  seeing 
is  an  example  of  the  workings  of  conscience 
where   you    thought  conscience    was    absent. 

169 


P  V'.i 


170 


•ffn  tbc  /IBiOst  of  Blarma. 


/.' 


The  trouble  with  me  is  that  I  know  the  news- 
paper depends  on  me,  and  that  it  will  be  the 
first  time  I  have  failed.  It  is  the  newspaper 
man's  instinct  to  be  in  the  center  of  the  fray. 
He  yearns  to  scoop  the  opposition  press.  I 
will  get  a  night's  sleeff  if  I  can,  and  to-morrow, 
I  know,  I  shall  capitulate.  I  will  hunt  out 
General  O'Neill,  and  interview  him  on  the  field 
of  slaughter.  I  will  telegraph  pages.  I  will 
refurbish  my  military  vocabulary,  and  speak  of 
deploying  and  massing  and  throwing  out 
advance  guards,  and  that  sort  of  thing.  I  will 
move  detachments  and  advance  brigades,  and 
invent  strategy.  We  will  have  desperate  fight- 
ing in  the  columns  of  the  Argus,  whatever 
there  is  on  the  fields  of  Canada.  But  to  a  man 
who  has  seen  real  war  this  opira-bouffe  mas- 
querade of  fighting I  don't  want  to  say 

anything  harsh,  but  to  me  it  is  offensive." 

He  looked  up  with  a  wan  smile  at  his  partner, 
sitting  on  the  bottom  of  an  upturned  pail,  as  he 
said  this.  Then  he  reached  for  his  hip  pocket 
and  drew  out  a  revolver,  which  he  handed,  butt- 
end  forward,  to  the  professor,  who,  not  knowing 
his  friend  carried  such  an  instrument,  instinc- 
tively shrank  from  it. 

"  Here,  Renny,  take  this  weapon  of  devasta- 
tion and  soak  it  with  the  potatoes.  If  another 
messenger  comes  in  on  me  to-night,  I  know  I 
shall  riddle  him  if  I  have  this  handy.  My 
better  judgment  tells  me  he  is  innocent,  and  I 
don't  want  to  shed  the  only  blood  that  will  be 
spilled  during  this  awful  campaign." 

How  long  they  had  been  asleep  they  did  not 
know,  as  the  ghost-stories  have  it,  but  both 
were  suddenly  awakened  by  a  commotion  out- 
side. It  was  intensely  dark  inside  the  tent, 
but  as  the  two  sat  up  they  noticed  a  faint 
moving  blur  of  light,  which  made  itself  just 
visible  through  the  canvas. 


^^ 


•ffn  tbc  /IM&6t  of  aiarme. 


171 


"  It's  another  of  those  fiendish  messengers," 
whispered  Yates.     "  Gi'  me  that  revolver." 

"  Hush ! "  said  the  other  below  his  breath. 
"  There's  about  a  dozen  men  out  there,  judging 
by  the  footfalls.     I  heard  them  coming." 

"  Let's  fire  into  the  tent  and  be  done  with 
it,"  said  a  voice  outside. 

"No,  no,"  cried  ar other;  "no  man  shoot. 
It  makes  too  much  noise,  and  there  must  be 
others  about.  Have  ye  all  got  yer  bayonets 
fixed  ?  " 

There  was  a  murmur,  apparently  in  the 
affirmative. 

"Very  well,  then.  Murphy  and  O'Rourick, 
come  round  to  this  side.  You  three  stay  where 
you  are.  Tim,  you  go  to  that  end;  and, 
Doolin,  come  with  me." 

"  The  Fenian  army,  by  all  the  gods  !  "  whis- 
pered Yates,  groping  for  his  clothes.  "  Renny, 
give  me  that  revolver,  and  I'll  show  you  more 
fun  than  a  funeral." 

"  No,  no.  They're  at  least  three  to  our  one. 
We're  in  a  trap  here,  and  helpless." 

"  Oh,  just  let  me  jump  out  among  'em  and 
begin  the  fireworks.  Those  I  didn't  shoot 
would  die  of  fright.  Imagine  scouts  scouring 
the  woods  with  a  lantern — with  a  lantern, 
Renny  !  Think  of  that !  Oh,  this  is  pie  !  Let 
me  at  'em." 

"  Hush  !    Keep  quiet !    They'll  hear  you." 

"  Tim,  bring  the  lantern  round  to  this  side." 
The  blur  of  light  moved  along  the  canvas. 
"  There's  a  man  with  his  back  against  the  wall 
of  the  tent.  Just  touch  him  up  with  your  bayo- 
net. Murphy,  and  let  him  know  we're  here." 

"  There  may  be  twenty  in  the  tent,"  said 
Murphy  cautiously. 

"  Do  what  I  tell  you,"  answered  the  man  in 
command. 

Murphy  progged  his  bayonet  through  the 


172 


tn  tbe  ^iO0t  ot  Blarntd. 


canvas,  and  sunk  the  deadly  point  of  the  instru- 
ment into  the  bag  of  potatoes. 

"  Faith,  he  sleeps  sound,"  said  Murphy  with 
a  tremor  of  fear  in  his  voice,  as  there  was  no 
demonstration  on  the  part  of  the  bag. 

The  voice  of  Yates  rang  out  from  the  interior 
of  the  tent : 

'•  What  the  old  Harry  do  you  fellows  think 
you're  doing,  anyhow  ?  What's  the  matter 
with  you  ?     What  do  you  want  ?  " 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  broken  only 
by  a  nervous  scuffling  of  feet  and  the  clicking 
of  gun-locks. 

"  How  many  are  there  of  you  in  there  ?  "  said 
the  stern  voice  of  the  chief. 

"  Two,  if  you  want  to  know,  both  unarmed, 
and  one  ready  to  fight  the  lot  of  you  if  you  are 
anxious  for  a  scrimmage." 

"  Come  out  one  by  one,"  was  the  next  com- 
mand. 

"  We'll  come  out  one  by  one,"  said  Yates, 
emerging  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  "  but  you  can't  ex- 
pect us  to  keep  it  up  long,  as  there  are  only  two 
of  us." 

The  professor  next  appeared,  with  his  coat  on. 
The  situation  certainly  did  not  look  inviting. 
The  lantern  on  the  ground  threw  up  a  pallid 
glow  on  the  severe  face  of  the  commander,  as 
the  footlights  might  illuminate  the  figure  of  a 
brigand  in  a  wood  on  the  stage.  The  face  of 
the  officer  showed  that  he  was  greatly  impressed 
with  the  importance  and  danger  of  his  position. 
Yates  glanced  about  him  with  a  smile,  all  his 
recent  dejection  gone  now  that  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  row. 

"  Which  is  Murphy,"  he  £  lid,  "  and  which  is 
Doolin  ?  Hello,  alderman  !  "  he  cried,  as  his 
eyes  rested  on  one  tall,  strapping,  red-haired 
man  who  held  his  bayonet  ready  to  charge, 
with  a  fierce  determination  in  his  face  that 


fn  tbc  /nbiddt  of  Blarms. 


173 


on. 


as 

)f  a 

of 

ssed 

ion. 

liis 

the 

h  is 
his 
lired 

that 


might  have  made  an  opponent  quail.  "  When 
did  you  leave  New  York?  and  who's  running 
the  city  now  that  you're  gone  ?  " 

The  men  had  evidently  a  sense  of  humor,  in 
spite  of  their  bloodtlursty  business,  for  a  smile 
flickered  on  their  faces  in  tiie  lantern  !'';ht,  and 
several  bayonets  were  unconsciously  lowered. 
But  the  hard  face  of  the  commander  did  not  relax. 

*'  You  are  doing  yourself  no  good  by  your 
talk,"  he  said  solemnly.  "  What  you  say  will 
be  used  against  you." 

"  Yes,  and  what  you  do  will  be  used  against 
you  :  and  don't  forget  that  fact.  It's  you  who 
are  in  danger — not  I.  You  are,  at  this  moment, 
making  about  the  biggest  ass  of  yourself  there 
is  in  Canada." 

"  Pinion  these  men  ! "  cried  the  captain  gruffly. 

"Pinion  nothing!"  shouted  Yates,  shaking 
off  the  grasp  of  a  man  who  had  sprung  to  his 
side.  But  both  Yates  and  Renmark  were 
speedily  overpowered  ;  and  then  an  unseen 
difficulty  presented  itself.  Murphy  pathetically 
remarked  that  they  had  no  rope.  The  captain 
was  a  man  of  resource. 

"  Cut  enough  rope  from  the  tent  to  tie  them." 

"  And  when  you're  at  it,  Murphy,"  said 
Yates,  "  cut  off  enough  more  to  hang  yourself 
with.  You'll  need  it  before  long.  And  remem- 
ber that  any  damage  you  do  to  that  tent  you'll 
have  to  pay  for.     It's  hired." 

Yates  gave  them  all  the  trouble  he  could 
while  they  tied  his  elbows  and  wrists  together, 
offering  sardonic  suggestions  and  cursing 
their  clumsiness,  Renmark  submitted  quietly. 
Wiien  the  operation  was  finished,  the  professor 
said  with  the  calm  confidence  of  one  who  has 
an  empire  behind  him  and  knows  it : 

"  I  warn  you,  sir,  that  this  outrage  is  com- 
mitted on  British  soil ;  and  that  I,  on  whom  it 
is  committed,  am  a  British  subject." 


174 


•ffn  tbe  /iRlD0t  of  Blarma. 


i'    < 


"  Heavens  and  earth,  Renmark,  if  you  find  it 
impossible  to  keep  your  mouth  shut,  do  not  use 
the  word  '  subject,'  but  '  citizen.'  " 

"  I  am  satisfied  with  the  word,  and  with  the 
protection  given  to  those  who  use  it." 

"  Look  here,  Renmark  ;  you  had  better  let  me 
do  the  talking.  You  will  only  put  your  foot  in 
it.  I  know  the  kind  of  men  I  nave  to  deal  with  ; 
you  evidently  don't." 

In  tying  the  professor  they  came  upon  the 
pistol  in  his  coat  pocket.  Murphy  held  it  up  to 
the  light. 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  were  unarmed  ?  " 
remarked  the  captain  severely,  taking  the 
revolver  in  his  hand. 

"  I  was  unarmed.  The  revolver  is  mine,  but 
the  professor  would  not  let  me  use  it.  If  he 
had,  all  of  you  would  be  running  for  dear  life 
through  the  woods." 

"  You  admit  that  you  are  a  British  subject  ?  " 
said  the  captain  to  Renmark,  ignoring  Yates. 

"  He  doesn't  admit  if,  he  brags  of  it,"  said  the 
latter  before  Renmark  could  speak.  "  You 
can't  scare  him  ;  so  quit  this  fooling,  and  let  us 
know  how  long  we  are  to  stand  here  trussed  up 
like  this." 

"  I  propose,  captain,"  said  the  red-headed 
man,  "that  we  shoot  these  men  where  they 
stand,  and  report  to  the  general.  They  are 
spies.  They  are  armed,  and  they  denied  it. 
It's  according  to  the  rules  of  war,  captain." 

"  Rules  of  war  ?  What  do  you  know  of  the 
rules  of  war,  you  red-headed  Senegambian  ? 
Rules  of  Hoyle  !  Your  line  is  digging  sewers, 
I  imagine.  Come,  captain,  undo  these  ropes, 
and  make  up  your  mind  quickly.  Trot  us 
along  to  General  O'Neill  just  as  fast  as  you  can. 
The  sooner  you  get  us  there  the  more  time  you 
will  have  for  being  sorry  over  what  you  have 
done." 


fn  tbc  ^it)0t  of  Blarms, 


175 


rtdit 
L  use 


the 


;t  me 
)0t  in 
with  ; 

n  the 
up  to 

ed  ?  " 
T    the 

le,  but 

If  he 

:ar  Ufe 

ject  ?  " 
ates. 
aid  th3 
"You 
i  let  us 
;sed  up 

headed 
e  they 
ley  are 
nied  it. 


m 


of  the 
bian  ? 

sewers, 
ropes, 
rot   us 

ou  can. 

me  you 

)u  have 


The  captain  still  hesitated,  and  looked  from 
one  to  the  other  of  his  men,  as  if  to  make  up 
his  mind  whether  they  would  obey  him  if  he 
went  to  extremities.  Yates'  quick  eye  noted 
that  the  two  prisoners  had  nothing  to  hope  for, 
even  from  the  men  who  smiled.  The  shooting 
of  two  unarmed  and  bound  men  seemed  to 
them  about  the  correct  way  of  beginning  a 
great  struggle  for  freedom. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain  at  length,  "  we  must 
do  it  in  proper  forni,  so  I  sui)pose  we  should 
have  a  court-martial.  Are  you  agreed  ?  " 
They  were  unanimously  agreed. 
"  Look  here,"  cried  Yates,  and  there  was  a 
certain  impressiveness  in  his  voice  in  spite  of  his 
former  levity ;  "  this  farce  has  gone  just  as  far 
as  it  is  going.  Go  inside  the  tent,  there,  and  in 
my  coat  pocket  you  will  find  a  telegram,  the 
first  of  a  dozen  or  two  received  by  me  within 
the  last  twenty-four  hours.  Then  you  will  see 
whom  you  propose  to  shoot." 

The  telegram  was  found,  and  the  captain 
read  it,  while  Tim  held  the  lantern.  Vie  looked 
from  under  his  knitted  brows  at  the  newspaper 
man. 

"  Then  you  are  one  of  the  Argus  staff." 
"  I  am  chief  of  the  Argus  staff.  As  you  see, 
five  of  my  men  will  be  with  General  O'Neill  to- 
morrow. The  first  question  they  will  ask  him 
will  be:  'Where  is  Yates?'  The  next  thing 
that  will  happen  will  be  that  you  will  be 
iianged  for  your  stupidity,  not  by  Canada 
nor  by  the  State  of  New  York,  but  by  your 
general,  who  will  curse  your  memory  ever 
after.  You  are  fooling  not  with  a  subj  <• 
this  time,  but  with  a  citizen  ;  and  your  general 
is  not  such  an  idiot  as  to  monkey  with  the 
United  States  Government ;  and,  what  is  a 
blamed  sight  worse,  with  the  great  American 
press.    Come,  captain,  we've  had  enough  of 


:   i^\ 


176 


f  n  tbe  /Rl&0t  of  Blarma. 


t>  ! 


Mf' 


i.  ;ii 


this.  Cut  these  cords  just  as  quickly  as  you 
can,  and  take  us  to  the  general.  We  were 
going  to  see  him  in  the  morning,  anyhow." 

"  But  this  man  says  he  is  a  Canadian." 

"  That's  all  right.  My  friend  is  me.  If  you 
touch  him,  you  touch  me.  Now,  hurry  up. 
climb  down  from  your  perch.  I  shall  have 
enough  trouble  now,  getting  the  general  to  for- 
give all  the  blunders  you  have  made  to-night, 
without  your  adding  insult  to  injury.  Tell 
your  men  to  untie  us,  and  throw  the  ropes  back 
into  the  tent.  It  will  soon  be  daylight.  Hustle, 
and  let  us  be  off." 

"  Untie  them,"  said  the  captain,  with  a 
sigh. 

Yates  shook  himself  when  his  arms  regained 
their  freedom. 

"  Now,  Tim,"  he  said,  *'  run  into  that  tent 
and  bring  out  my  coat.     It's  chilly  here." 

Tim  did  instantly  as  requested,  and  helped 
Yates  on  with  the  coat. 

"  Good  boy  !  "  said  Yates.  "  You've  evi- 
dently been  porter  in  a  hotel." 

Tim  grinned. 

"  I  think,"  said  Yates  meditatively,  "  that  if 
you  look  under  the  right-hand  bunk,  Tim,  you 
will  find  a  jug.  It  belongs  to  the  professor, 
although  he  has  hidden  it  under  my  bed  to 
divert  suspicion  from  himself.  Just  fish  it  out 
and  bring  it  here.  It  is  not  as  full  as  it  was, 
but  there's  enough  to  go  round,  if  the  professor 
does  not  take  more  than  his  share." 

The  gallant  troop  smacked  their  lips  in  an- 
ticipation, and  Renmark  looked  astonished  to 
see  the  jar  brought  forth.  "  You  first,  pro- 
fessor," said  Yates  ;  and  Tim  innocently  offered 
him  the  vessel.  The  learned  man  shook  his 
head.     Yates  laughed,  and  took  it  himself. 

"  Well,  here's  to  you,  boys,"  he  said.  "  And 
may  you  all  get  back  as  safely  to  New  York  as 


i 


ITn  tbe  l^i^st  of  Slarms, 


177 


I  will."    The  jar  passed  down  alo..j  the  line, 
until  Tim  finished  its  contents. 

"  Now,  then,  for  the  camp  of  the  Fenian 
army,"  cried  Yates,  taking  Renmark's  arm  ; 
and  they  began  their  march  through  the  woods. 
"  Great  Cassar !  Stilly,"  he  continued  to  his 
friend,  "  this  is  rest  and  quiet  with  a  vengeance, 
isn't  it  ?  " 


I 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


)l 


The  Fenians,  feeling  that  they  had  to  put  their 
best  foot  foremost  in  the  presence  of  their 
prisoners,  tried  at  first  to  maintain  sometliing 
like  miUtary  order  in  marching  through  the 
woods.  They  soon  found,  however,  that  this 
was  a  (hfTicuIt  tiling  to  do.  Canadian  forests 
are  not  as  trimly  kept  as  English  parks.  Tim 
walked  on  ahead  with  the  lantern,  but  three 
times  he  tumbled  over  some  obstruction,  and 
disappeared  suddenly  from  view,  uttering  male- 
dictions. His  final  effort  in  this  line  was  a 
triumph.  He  fell  over  the  lantern  and  smashed 
it.  When  all  attempts  at  reconstruction  failed, 
the  party  tramped  on  in  go-as-you-please 
fashion,  and  found  they  did  better  without  the 
light  than  with  it.  In  fact,  although  it  was  not 
yet  four  o'clock,  daybreak  was  already  filtering 
through  the  trees,  and  the  woods  were  percep- 
tibly lighter. 

"  We  must  be  getting  near  the  camp,"  said 
the  captain. 

"Will  I  shout,  sir?"  asked  Murphy. 

"  No,  no  ;  we  can't  miss  it.  Keep  on  as  you 
arc  doing." 

They  were  nearer  the  camp  than  they  sus- 
pected. As  they  blundered  on  among  the 
crackling  underbrush  and  dry  twigs  the  sharp 
report  of  a  rifle  echoed  through  the  forest,  and 
a  bullet  whistled  above  their  heads. 

"  Fat  the  divil  are  you  foiring  at,  Mike 
Lynch  ?  "  cried  the  alderman,  who  recognized 
the  shooter,  now  rapidly  falling  back. 

178 


•ffn  tbe  ^lOat  of  Blarms. 


179 


,  you 

sus- 

the 

iharp 

,  and 


"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?  "  said  tiie  sentry,  stop- 
ping in  his  flight.  The  captain  strode  angrily 
toward  him. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  firing  lil<e  that  ? 
Don't  you  know  enough  to  ask  for  the  counter- 
sign before  shooting?  " 

"  Sure,  I  forgot  about  it,  captain,  entirely. 
But,  then,  ye  see,  I  never  can  hit  anything ;  so 
it's  little  difference  it  makes." 

The  shot  had  roused  the  camp,  and  there 
was  now  wild  commotion,  everybody  thinking 
the  Canadians  were  upon  them. 

A  strange  sight  met  the  eye  of  Yates  and 
Renmark.  Both  were  astonished  to  see  the 
number  of  men  that  O'Neill  had  under  his  com- 
mand. They  found  a  motley  crowd.  Some 
tattered  United  States  uniforms  were  among 
them,  but  the  greater  number  were  dressed  as 
ordinary  individuals,  although  a  few  had  trim- 
mings of  green  braid  on  their  clothes.  Sleep- 
ing out  for  a  couple  of  nights  had  given  the 
gathering  the  unkempt  appearance  of  a  great 
company  of  tramps.  The  ofificers  were  indis- 
tinguishable from  the  men  at  first,  but  after- 
ward Yates  noticed  that  they,  mostly  in  plain 
clothes  and  slouch  hats,  had  sword  belts 
buckled  around  them  ;  and  one  or  two  had 
swords  that  had  evidently  seen  service  in  the 
United  States  cavalry. 

'•  It's  all  right,  boys,"  cried  the  captain  to  the 
excited  mob.  "  It  was  only  that  fool  Lynch  who 
fired  at  us.  There's  nobody  hurt.  Where's  the 
general  ?  " 

"  Here  he  comes,"  said  half  a  dozen  voices  at 
once,  and  the  crowd  made  way  for  him. 

General  O'Neill  was  dressed  in  ordinary 
citizen's  costume,  and  did  not  wear  even  a 
sword  belt.  On  his  head  of  light  hair  was 
a  black  soft  felt  hat.  His  face  was  pale,  and 
covered  with  freckles.     He  looked  more  like 


i8o 


•ffn  tbe  ltsit>6t  ot  Blarms. 


■i  'ij  ■  i 


*i\ 


( 


1  i 

4 

, 

a  clerk  from  a  grocery  store  than  the  com- 
mander of  an  army.  He  was  evidently  some- 
where between  thirty-five  and  forty  years  of 
age. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it.?  "he  said.  "Why  are 
you  back  ?     Any  news  ?  " 

The  captain  saluted,  military  fashion,  and 
replied : 

"  We  took  two  prisoners,  sir.  They  were 
encamped  in  a  tent  in  the  woods.  One  of  them 
says  he  is  an  American  citizen,  and  says  he 
knows  you,  so  I  brought  them  in." 

*'  I  wish  you  had  brought  in  the  tent,  too," 
s  id  the  general  with  a  wan  smile.  "  It  would 
be  an  improvement  on  sleeping  in  the  open  air. 
Are  these  the  prisoners.-*  I  don't  know  either 
of  them." 

•'  The  captain  makes  a  mistake  in  saying  that 
I  claimed  a  personal  acquaintance  with  you, 
general.  What  I  said  was  that  you  would 
recognize,  somewhat  quicker  than  he  did,  who 
I  was,  and  the  desirability  of  treating  me  with 
reasonable  decency.  Just  show  the  general 
that  telegram  you  took  from  my  coat  pocket, 
captain." 

The  paper  was  produced,  and  O'Neill  read  it 
over  once  or  twice. 

"  You  are  on  the  New  York  Argus,  then  ?  " 

"  Very  much  so,  general." 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  been  rough!''  used  }  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  merely  tied  up  in  a  ha:  .  knot,  and 
threatened  with  shooting — that's  ah. ' 

"  Oh,  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that.  Still,  you  must 
make  some  allowance  at  a  time  like  this.  If 
you  will  come  with  me,  I  will  write  you  a  pass 
which  will  prevent  any  similar  mistake  happen- 
ing in  the  future."  The  general  led  the  way  to 
a  smoldering  camp  fire,  where,  out  of  a  valise, 
he  took  writing  materials  and,  using  the  valise  as 
a  desk,  began  to  write.    After  he  had  written 


( 


f  n  tbe  Pbi^et  of  Blarm0. 


i8i 


that 


"  Headquarters  '^f  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Irish 
Republic  "  he  looked  up,  and  asked  Yates  his 
Christian  name.  Being  answered,  he  inquired 
the  name  of  his  friend. 

"  I  want  nothing  from  you,"  interposed  Ren- 
mark.     "  Don't  put  my  name  on  the  paper." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  Yates.  "  Never 
mind  him,  general.  He's  a  learned  man  who 
doesn't  know  when  to  talk  and  when  not  to. 
As  you  march  up  to  our  tent,  general,  you  will 
see  an  empty  jug,  which  will  explain  everything. 
Renmark's  drunk,  not  to  put  too  fine  a  point 
upon  it ;  and  he  imagines  himself  a  British 
subject." 

The  Fenian  general  looked  up  at  the  professor. 

"  Are  you  a  Canadian  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Certainly  I  am." 

"  Well,  in  that  case,  if  I  let  you  leave  camp, 
you  must  give  me  your  word  that,  should  you 
fall  in  with  the  enemy,  you  will  give  no  informa- 
tion to  them  of  our  position,  numbers,  or  of 
anything  else  you  may  have  seen  while  with  us." 

"  I  shall  not  give  my  word.  On  the  contrary, 
if  I  should  fall  in  with  the  Canadian  troops,  I 
v;^ill  tell  them  where  you  are,  that  you  are  from 
eight  hundred  to  one  thousand  strong,  and  the 
worst  looking  set  of  vagabonds  I  have  ever  seen 
out  of  jail." 

General  O'Neill  frowned,  and  looked  from 
one  to  the  other. 

"  Do  you  realize  that  you  confess  to  being  a 
spy,  and  that  it  becomes  my  duty  to  have  you 
taken  out  and  shot  ?  " 

"  In  real  war,  yes.  But  this  is  mere  idiotic 
fooling.  All  of  you  that  don't  escape  will  be 
either  in  jail  or  shot  before  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Well,  by  the  gods,  it  won't  help  y.  u  any. 
I'll  have  you  shot  inside  of  ten  minutes,  instead 
of  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Hold  on,  general,  hold  on  !  "  cried  Yates,  as 


M 


182 


Hn  tbe  Osi^Qt  of  Blarma. 


f 


H 


Tt        " 


u. 


I'f.' 


i'  f 


11!^ 


the  angry  man  rose  and  confronted  the  two. 
"  I  admit  tliat  he  richly  deserves  shooting,  if 
you  were  the  fool  killer,  which  you  are  not. 
But  it  won't  do,  I  will  be  responsible  for  him. 
Just  finish  that  pass  for  me,  and  I  will  take  care 
of  the  professor.  Shoot  me  if  you  like,  but 
don't  touch  him.  He  hasn't  any  sense,  as  you 
can  see;  but  I  am  not  to  blame  for  that,  nor 
are  you.  If  you  take  to  shooting  everybody 
who  is  an  ass,  general,  you  won't  have  any  am- 
munition left  with  which  to  conquer  Canada. 

The  general  smiled  in  spite  of  himself,  and 
resumed  the  writing  of  the  pass.  "  There,"  he 
said,  handing  the  paper  to  Yates.  "  You  see, 
we  always  like  to  oblige  the  press.  I  will  risk 
your  belligerent  friend,  and  I  hope  you  will 
exercise  more  control  over  him,  if  you  meet  the 
Canadians,  than  you  were  able  to  exert  here. 
Don't  you  think,  on  the  whole,  you  had  better 
stay  with  us?  We  are  going  to  march  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  when  the  men  have  had  a  little 
rest."  He  added  in  a  lower  voice,  so  that  the 
professor  could  not  hear :  "  You  didn't  see  any- 
thing of  the  Canadians,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Not  a  sign.  No,  I  don't  think  I'll  stay. 
There  will  be  five  of  our  fellows  here  some  time 
to-day,  I  expect,  and  that  will  be  more  than 
enough.  I'm  really  here  on  a  vacation.  Been 
ordered  rest  and  quiet.  Vm  beginning  to  think 
I  have  made  a  mistake  in  location." 

Yates  bade  good-by  to  the  commander,  and 
walked  with  his  friend  out  of  the  camp.  They 
threaded  their  way  among  sleeping  men  and 
groups  of  stacked  guns.  On  the  top  of  one  of 
the  bayonets  was  hung  a  tall  silk  hat,  which 
looked  most  incongruous  in  such  a  place. 

"  I  think,"  said  Yates,  "  that  we  will  make  for 
the  Ridge  Road,  which  must  lie  somewhere  in 
this  direction.  It  will  be  easier  walking  than 
through  the  woods ;  and,  besides,  I   want  to 


fn  ibe  /R(D0t  of  Blarma, 


183 


stop  at  one  of  the  farmhouses  and  get  some 
breakfast.  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  bear  after 
tramping  so  long." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  the  professor  shortly. 

The  two  stumbled  along  until  they  reached 
the  edge  of  the  wood;  then,  crossing  some 
open  fields,  they  came  presently  upon  the  road, 
near  the  spot  where  the  fist  fight  had  taken 
place  between  Yates  and  Bartlett.  The  com- 
rades, now  with  greater  comfort,  walked  silently 
along  the  road  toward  the  west,  with  the  red- 
dening east  behind  them.  The  whole  scene 
was  strangely  quiet  and  peaceful,  and  the  recol- 
lection of  the  weird  camp  they  had  left  in  the 
woods  seemed  merely  a  bad  dream.  The 
morning  air  was  sweet,  and  the  l)irds  were 
beginning  to  sing.  Yates  had  intended  to  give 
the  professor  a  piece  of  his  mind  regarding  the 
lack  of  tact  and  common  sense  displayed  by 
Renmark  in  the  camp,  but,  somehow,  the 
scarcely  awakened  day  did  not  lend  itself  to 
controversy,  and  the  serene  stillness  soothed  his 
spirit.  He  began  to  whistle  softly  that  popular 
war  song,  "  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the,  boys  are 
marching,"  and  then  broke  in  with  the 
question : 

"  Say,  Renny,  did  you  notice  that  plug  hat  on 
the  bayonet  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  professor  ;  "  and  I  saw 
five  others  scattered  around  the  camp." 

"Jingo!  you  were  observant.  I  can  imagine 
nothing  quite  so  ridiculous  as  a  man  going  to 
war  in  a  tall  silk  hat." 

The  professor  made  no  reply,  and  Yates 
changed   his  whistling  to   "  Rally  round   the 

flag." 

"  I  presume,"  he  said  at  length,  "  there  is 
little  use  in  attempting  to  improve  the  rnornin;?^ 
hour  by  trying  to  show  you,  Renmark,  what  a 
fool  you  made  of  yourself  in  the  camp  ?     Your 


i84 


tn  tbe  iifs\t>Bt  of  Blarme. 


1^ 


H 


il  • 


natural  diplomacy  seemed  to  be  slightly  off  the 
center." 

"  I  do  not  hold  diplomatic  relations  with 
thieves  and  vagabonds." 

"  They  may  be  vagabonds  ;  but  so  am  I,  for 
that  matter.  They  may  also  be  well-meaning, 
mistaken  men  ;  but  1  do  not  think  they  are 
thieves." 

"  While  you  were  talking  with  the  so-called 
general,  one  party  came  in  with  several  horses 
that  had  been  stolen  from  the  neighboring 
farmers,  and  another  party  started  out  to  get 
some  more." 

"  Oh,  that  isn't  stealing,  Renmark ;  that's 
requisitioning.  You  mustn't  use  such  reckless 
language.  I  imagine  the  second  party  has  been 
successful ;  for  here  are  three  of  them  all 
mounted." 

The  three  horsemen  referred  to  stopped  their 
steeds  at  the  sight  of  the  two  men  coining  round 
the  bend  of  the  road,  and  awaited  their  approach. 
Like  so  many  of  the  others,  they  wore  no  uni- 
form, but  two  of  them  held  revolvers  in  their 
hands  ready  for  action.  The  one  who  had  no 
visible  revolver  moved  his  ho  rse  up  the  middle 
of  the  road  toward  the  pedestrians,  the  other 
two  taking  positions  on  each  side  of  the  wagon 
way. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  Where  do  you  come  from, 
and  where  are  you  going  ?  "  cried  the  foremost 
horseman,  as  the  two  walkers  came  within 
talking  distance. 

"  It's  all  right,  commodore,"  said  Yates 
jauntily,  "  and  the  top  of  the  morning  to  you. 
We  are  hungry  pedestrians.  We  have  just  come 
from  the  camp,  and  we  are  going  to  get  some- 
thing to  eat." 

"  I  must  have  a  more  satisfactory  answer  than 
that." 

"Well,  here  you  have  it,  then,"  answered 


f  n  tbe  l\bit>0t  of  Blarme. 


185 


Yates,  pulling  out  his  folded  pass,  and  handing 
it  up  to  the  horseman.  The  man  read  it  care- 
fully.    "  You  find  that  all  right,  I  expect  ?  " 

"  Right  enough  to  cause  your  immediate 
arrest." 

•'  But  the  general  said  we  were  not  to  be 
molested  further.  That  is  in  his  own  hand- 
writing." 

••  I  presume  it  is,  and  all  the  worse  for  you. 
His  handwriting  does  not  run  quite  as  far  as 
the  queen's  writ  in  this  country  yet.  I  arrest 
you  in  the  name  of  the  queen.  Cover  these 
men  with  your  revolvers,  and  shoot  them  down 
if  they  make  any  resistance."  So  saying,  the 
rider  slipped  from  his  horse,  whipped  out  of  his 
pocket  a  pair  of  handcuffs  joined  by  a  short, 
stout  steel  chain,  and,  leaving  his  horse  standing, 
grasped  Renmark's  wrist. 

"  I'm  a  Canadian,"  said  the  professor,  wrench- 
ing his  wrist  away.  "  You  mustn't  put  hand- 
cuffs on  me." 

"  You  are  in  very  bad  company,  then.  I  am 
a  constable  of  this  county  ;  if  you  are  what  you 
say,  you  will  not  resist  arrest.' 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  but  you  mustn't  hand- 
cuff me." 

"  Oh,  mustn't  I  ?  "  And,  with  a  quick  move- 
ment indicative  of  long  practice  with  resisting 
criminals,  the  constable  deftly  slipped  on  one 
of  the  clasps,  which  closed  with  a  sharp  click 
and  stuck  like  a  burr. 

Ren  mark  became  deadly  pale,  and  there 
was  a  dangerous  glitter  in  his  eyes.  He  drew 
back  his  clinched  fist,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  the  cocked  revolver  was  edging  closer 
and  closer  to  him,  and  the  constable  held  his 
struggling  manacled  hand  with  grim  deter- 
mination. 

"  Hold  on  ! "  cried  Yates,  preventing  the 
professor  from  striking  the  representative  of 


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the  law.  "  Don't  shoot,"  he  shouted  to  the 
man  on  liorseback  ;  "  it  is  all  a  little  mistake 
that  will  be  quickly  put  right.  You  are  three 
armed  and  mounted  men,  and  we  are  only  two, 
unarmed  and  on  foot.  There  is  no  need  of  any 
revolver  practice.  Now,  Renmark,  you  are 
more  of  a  rebel  at  the  present  moment  than 
O'Neill.  He  owes  no  allegiance,  and  you  do. 
Have  you  no  respect  for  the  forms  of  law  and 
order  .-*  You  are  an  anarchist  at  heart,  for  all 
your  professions.  You  woti/d  s\\\g  'God  save 
the  Queen  ! '  in  the  wrong  place  a  while  ago,  so 
now  be  satisfied  that  you  have  got  her,  or, 
rather,  that  she  has  got  you.  Now,  constable, 
do  you  want  to  hitch  the  other  end  of  that 
arrangement  on  my  wrist }  or  have  you  another 
pair  for  my  own  special  use  ?  " 

"  I'll  take  your  wrist,  if  you  please." 

"  All  right ;  here  you  are."  Yates  drew  back 
his  coat  sleeve,  and  presented  his  wrist.  The 
dangling  cuJ  was  speedily  clamped  upon  it. 
The  constable  mounted  the  patient  horse  that 
stood  waiting  tor  him,  watching  him  all  the 
while  with  intelligent  eye.  The  two  prisoners, 
handcuffed  together,  took  the  middle  of  the 
road,  with  a  horseman  on  each  side  of  them, 
the  constable  bringing  up  the  rear;  thus  they 
marched  on,  the  professor  gloomy  from 
the  indignity  put  upon  them,  and  the  news- 
paper man  as  joyous  as  the  now  thoroughly 
awakened  birds.  The  scouts  concluded  to  go 
no  farther  toward  the  enemy,  but  to  return  to 
the  Canadian  forces  with  their  prisoners.  They 
marched  down  the  road,  all  silent  except  Yates, 
who  enlivened  the  morning  air  with  the  singing 
of  "  John  Brown." 

"  Keep  quiet,"  said  the  constable  curtly. 

"AH  right,  I  will.  But  look  here;  we  shall 
pass  shortly  the  house  of  a  friend.  We  want 
to  go  and  get  something  to  eat." 


' 


In  tbc  Ibitfet  of  Blarmg, 


187 


**  You  will  get  nothing  to  eat  until  I  deliver 
you  up  to  the  officers  of  the  volunteers," 

"  And  where,  may  I  ask,  are  they  ?  " 

"  You  may  ask,  but  I  will  not  answer." 

"  Now,  Renmark,"  said  Yates  to  his  com- 
panion, "  the  tough  part  of  this  episode  is  that 
we  shall  have  to  pass  Bartlett's  house,  and 
feast  merely  on  the  remembrance  of  the  good 
things  which  Mrs.  Bartlett  is  always  glad  to 
bestow  on  the  wayfarer.  I  call  that  refined 
cruelty." 

As  they  neared  the  Bartlett  homestead  they 
caught  sight  of  Miss  Kitty  on  the  veranda, 
shading  her  eyes  from  the  rising  sun,  and  gaz- 
ing earnestly  at  the  approaching  squad.  As 
soon  as  she  recognized  the  group  she  disap- 
peared, with  a  cry,  into  the  house.  Presently 
there  came  out  Mrs.  Bartlett,  followed  by  her 
son,  and  more  slowly  by  the  old  man  himself. 

They  all  came  down  to  the  gate  and  waited. 

"  Hello,  Mrs.  Bartlett !  "  cried  Yates  cheerily. 
•'  You  see,  the  professor  has  got  his  deserts  at 
last ;  and  I,  being  in  bad  company,  share  his 
fate,  like  the  good  dog  Tray." 

"  What's  all  this  about  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett. 

The  constable,  who  knew  both  the  farmer 
and  his  wife,  nodded  familiarly  to  them. 
"  They're  Fenian  prisoners,"  he  said. 

♦•  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett — the  old 
man,  as  usual,  keeping  his  mouth  grimly  shut 
when  his  wife  was  present  to  do  the  talking — 
"they're  not  Fenians.  They've  been  camping 
on  our  farm  for  a  week  or  more." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  the  constable  firmly, 
"  but  I  have  the  best  of  evidence  against  them  ; 
and,  if  I'm  not  very  much  mistaken,  they'll  hang 
for  it." 

Miss  Kitty,  who  had  been  partly  visible 
through  the  door,  gave  a  cry  of  anguish  at  this 
remark,  and  disappeared  again. 


V 


|: 


ii 


mF 


V  I 


f    t 


z88 


•ffn  tbe  /llblDat  of  Blarms. 


"  We  have  just  escaped  being  hanged  by  the 
Fenians  themselves,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  and  I  hope 
the  same  fate  awaits  us  at  the  hands  of  the 
Canadians." 

"  What !  hanging  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  just  escaping.  Not  that  I  object 
to  being  hanged, — I  hope  I  am  not  so  pernickety 
as  all  tliat, — but,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  you  will  sympa- 
thize with  me  when  I  tell  you  that  the  torture 
I  am  suffering  from  at  this  moment  is  the  re- 
membrance of  the  good  things  to  eat  which  I 
have  had  in  your  house.  I  am  simply  starved 
to  death,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  and  this  hard-hearted 
constable  refuses  to  allow  me  to  ask  you  for 
anything." 

Mrs.  Bartlett  came  out  through  the  gate  to 
the  road  in  a  visible  state  of  indignation. 

"  Stoliker,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I'm  ashamed  of 
you  !  You  may  hang  a  man  if  you  like,  but 
you  have  no  right  to  starve  him.  Come 
straight  in  with  me,"  she  said  to  the  prisoners. 

"  Madam,"  said  Stoliker  severely,  *'  you  must 
not  interfere  with  the  course  of  the  law." 

"  The  course  of  stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  cried 
the  angry  woman.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid 
of  you,  Sam  Stoliker  ?  Haven't  I  chascc  lu 
out  of  this  very  orchard  when  you  were  a  Doy 
trying  to  steal  my  apples  ?  Yes,  and  boxed 
your  ears,  too,  when  I  caught  you,  and  then  was 
fool  enough  to  fill  your  pockets  with  the  best 
apples  on  the  place,  after  giving  you  what  you 
deserved.  Course  of  the  law,  indeed  !  I'll  box 
your  ears  now  if  you  say  anything  more.  Get 
down  off  your  horse,  and  have  something  to 
eat  yourself.     I  dare  say  you  need  it." 

"  This  is  what  I  call  a  rescue,"  whispered 
Yates  to  his  linked  companion. 

What  is  a  stern  upholder  of  the  law  to  do 
when  the  interferer  with  justice  is  a  determined 
and  angry  woman  accustomed  to  having  her 


I   . 


f  !>  i 


•ffn  the  /BblDst  of  Blarms. 


189 


cried 

aid 

ou 

Doy 

oxed 
was 
best 
you 
box 
Get 
g  to 


do 
lined 
lier 


own  way  ?  Stoliker  looked  helplessly  at  Hiram, 
as  the  supposed  head  of  the  house,  but  the  old 
man  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  much  as 
to  say :  "  You  see  how  it  is  yourself,  I  am 
helpless." 

Mrs.  Bartlett  marched  her  prisoners  through 
the  gate  and  up  to  the  house. 

"  All  I  ask  of  you  now,"  said  Yates,  "  is  that 
you  will  give  Renmark  and  me  seats  together 
at  the  table.  We  cannot  bear  to  be  separated, 
even  for  an  instant." 

Having  delivered  her  prisoners  to  the  custody 
of  her  daughter,  at  the  same  time  admonishing 
her  to  get  breakfast  as  quickly  as  possible,  Mrs. 
Bartlett  went  to  the  gate  again.  The  constable 
was  still  on  his  horse.  Hiram  had  asked,  by 
way  of  treating  him  to  a  noncontroversial  sub- 
ject, if  this  v/ns  the  colt  he  had  bought  from 
old  Brown,  on  the  second  concession,  and 
Stoliker  had  replied  that  it  was.  Hiram  was 
saying  he  thought  he  recognized  the  horse  by 
his  sire  when  Mrs.  Bartlett  broke  in  upon 
therrf. 

"  Come,  Sam,"  she  said,  "  no  sulking,  you 
know.  Slip  off  the  horse  and  come  in.  How's 
your  mother  ?  " 

"  She's  pretty  well,  thank  you,"  said  Sam 
sheepishly,  coming  down  on  his  feet  again. 

Kitty  Bartlett,  her  gayety  gone  and  her  eyes 
red,  waited  on  the  prisoners,  but  absolutely 
refused  to  serve  Sam  Stoliker,  on  whom  she 
looked  with  the  utmost  contempt,  not  taking 
into  account  the  fact  that  the  poor  young  man 
had  been  merely  doing  his  duty,  and  doing  it 
well. 

"  Take  off  these  handcuffs,  Sam,"  said  Mrs. 
Bartlett,  "  until  they  have  breakfast,  at  least." 

Stoliker  produced  a  key  and  unlocked  the 
manacles,  slipping  them  into  his  pocket. 

•'  Ah,  now  !  "  said  Yates,  looking  at  his  red 


I 

I 


I' 


190 


Ifn  tbc  /iBiOat  of  Blarms, 


1^   f 


wrist,  "we  can  breathe  easier;  and  I,  for  one, 
can  eat  more." 

The  professor  said  nothing.  The  iron  had 
not  only  encircled  his  wrist,  but  had  entered 
his  soul  as  well.  Although  Yates  tried  to  make 
the  early  meal  as  cheerful  as  possible,  it  was 
rather  a  gloomy  festival.  Stoliker  began  to 
feel,  poor  man,  that  the  paths  of  duty  were 
unpopular.  Old  Hiram  could  always  be  de- 
pended upon  to  add  somberness  and  tacitur- 
nity to  a  wedding  feast ;  the  professor,  never 
the  liveliest  of  companions,  sat  silent,  with 
clouded  brow,  and  vexed  even  the  cheerful  Mrs. 
Bartlett  by  having  evidently  no  appetite.  When 
the  hurried  meal  was  over,  Yates,  noticing  that 
Miss  Kitty  had  left  the  room,  sprang  up  and 
walked  toward  the  kitchen  door.  Stoliker  was 
on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  made  as  though 
to  follow  him. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  professor  sharply,  speak- 
ing for  the  first  time.  "  He  is  not  going  to 
escape.  Don't  be  afraid.  He  has  done  noth- 
ing, and  has  no  fear  of  punishment.  It  is  always 
the  innocent  that  you  stupid  officials  arrest. 
The  woods  all  around  you  are  full  of  real 
Fenians,  but  you  take  excellent  care  to  keep 
out  of  their  way,  and  give  your  attention  to 
molesting  perfectly  inoffensive  people." 

"  Good  for  you,  professor  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Bart- 
lett emphaticall3^  "  That's  the  truth,  if  ever  it 
was  spoken.  But  are  there  Fenians  in  the 
woods  ?  " 

"  Hundreds  of  them.  They  came  on  us  in 
the  tent  about  three  o'clock  this  morning, — orat 
least  an  advance  guard  did, — and  after  talking 
of  shooting  us  where  w^e  stood  they  marched 
us  to  the  Fenian  camp  instead.  Yates  got  a 
pass,  written  by  the  Fenian  general,  so  that  we 
should  not  be  troubled  again.  That  is  the 
precious  document  which  this  man  thinks  is 


I  'sS 


ITn  tbe  ^IDst  of  Blarma. 


191 


deadly  evidence.  He  never  asked  us  a  question, 
but  clapped  the  handcuffs  on  our  wrists,  while 
the  other  fools  held  pistols  to  our  heads." 

"  It  isn't  my  place  to  ask  questions,"  retorted 
Stoliker  doggedly.  "  You  can  tell  all  this  to 
the  colonel  or  the  sheriff ;  if  they  let  you  go, 
I'll  say  nothing  against  it." 

Meanwhile,  Yates  had  made  his  way  ito  the 
kitchen,  taking  the  precaution  to  shut  the  door 
after  him.  Kitty  Bartlett  looked  quickly  round 
as  the  door  closed.  Before  she  could  speak 
the  young  man  caught  her  by  the  plump 
shoulders — a  thing  which  he  certainly  had  no 
right  to  do. 

"  Miss  Kitty  Bartlett,"  he  said,  "  you've  been 
crying." 

"  I  haven't ;  and  if  I  had,  it  is  nothing  to  you." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  Don't 
deny  it.  For  whom  were  you  crying?  The 
professor  ?  " 

"  No,  nor  for  you  either,  although  I  suppose 
you  have  conceit  enough  to  think  so." 

"  Me  conceited  ?  Anything  but  that.  Come, 
now,  Kitty,  for  whom  were  you  crying  ?  I 
must  know." 

"  Please  let  me  go,  Mr.  Yates,"  said  Kitty, 
with  an  effort  at  dignity. 

"  Dick  is  my  name,  Kit." 

"  Well,  mine  is  not  Kit. 

"  You're  quite  right.  Now  that  you  mention 
it,  I  will  call  you  Kitty,  which  is  much  prettier 
than  the  abbreviation." 

"  I  did  not  '  mention  it.'  Please  let  me  go. 
Nobody  has  the  right  to  call  me  anything  but 
Miss  Bartlett ;  that  \^,yoii  haven't,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  Kitty,  don't  you  think  it  is  about  time 
to  give  somebody  the  right  }  Why  won't  you 
look  up  at  me,  so  that  I  can  tell  for  sure  whether 
I  should  have  accused  you  of  crying.?  Look 
up— Miss  Bartlett." 


If.,-' 

I 


i>    " 


192 


ITn  tbc  ^i&6t  of  Blarms. 


Mr.  Yates.     Mother  will 


"  Please  let  me  go, 
be  here  in  a  minute." 

"  Mother  is  a  wise  and  thougluful  woman. 
We'll  risk  mother.  Besides,  I'm  not  in  the 
least  afraid  of  iier,  and  I  don't  believe  you  are. 
I  think  she  is  at  this  moment  giving  poor  Mr. 
Stoliker  a  piece  of  her  mind  ;  otherwise,  I  im- 
agine, he  would  have  followed  me.  I  saw  it  in 
his  eye." 

"  I  hate  that  man,"  said  Kitty  inconsequently. 

"  I  like  him,  because  he  brought  me  here, 
even  if  I  was  handcuffed.  Kitty,  why  don't 
you  look  up  at  me  ?     Are  you  afraid  ?  " 

"  What  should  I  be  afraid  of  ?  "  asked  Kitty, 
giving  him  one  swift  glance  from  her  pretty 
blue  eyes.     "  Not  of  you,  I  hope." 

"  Well,  Kitty,  I  sincerely  hope  not.  Now, 
Miss  Bartlett,  do  you  know  why  I  came  out 
here  ?  " 

"  For  something  more  to  eat,  very  likely," 
said  the  girl  mischievously. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  that  to  a  man  in  captivity  is  both 
cruel  and  unkind.  Besides,  I  had  a  first-rate 
breakfast,  thank  you.  No  such  motive  drew 
me  into  the  kitchen.  But  I  will  tell  you.  You 
shall  have  it  from  my  own  lips.  T/ial  was  the 
reason  ! " 

He  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  kissed 
her  before  she  knew  what  was  about  to  happen. 
At  least,  Yates,  with  all  his  experience,  thought 
he  had  taken  her  unawares.  Men  often  make 
mistakes  in  little  matters  of  this  kind,  Kitty 
pushed  him  with  apparent  indignation  from 
her,  but  she  did  not  strike  him  across  the  face, 
as  she  had  done  before,  when  he  merely  at- 
tempted what  he  had  now  accomplished.  Per- 
haps this  was  because  she  had  been  taken  so 
completely  by  surprise. 

"  I  shall  call  my  mother,"  she  threatened. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  won't.     Besides,  she  wouldn't 


•ffn  tbe  /iRiC)0t  of  Blarma. 


193 


come."  Then  this  frivolous  young  man  began 
to  sing  in  a  low  voice  the  flippant  refrain, 
*'  Here's  to  the  girl  that  gets  a  kiss,  and  runs 
and  tells  her  mother,"  ending  with  the  wish 
that  she  should  live  and  die  an  old  maid  and 
never  get  another.  Kitty  should  not  have 
smiled,  but  she  did  ;  she  should  have  rebuked 
his  levity,  but  she  didn't. 

"  It  is  about  the  great  and  disastrous  conse- 
quences of  living  and  dying  an  old  maid  that  I 
want  to  speak  to  you.  I  have  a  plan  for  the 
prevention  of  such  a  catastroi)he,  and  I  would 
like  to  get  your  approval  of  it." 

Yates  had  released  the  girl,  partly  because 
she  had  wrenched  herself  away  from  him,  and 
partly  because  he  heard  a  movement  in  the 
dining  room,  and  expected  the  entrance  of 
Stoliker  or  some  of  the  others.  Miss  Kitty 
stood  with  her  back  to  the  table,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  a  spring  flower,  which  she  had  unconsciously 
taken  from  a  vase  standing  on  the  window- 
ledge.  She  smoothed  the  petals  this  way  and 
that,  and  seemed  so  interested  in  botanical  in- 
vestigation that  Yates  wondered  whether  she 
was  paying  attention  to  what  he  was  saying  or 
not.  What  his  plan  might  have  been  can  only 
be  guessed ;  for  the  Fates  ordained  that  they 
should  be  interrupted  at  this  critical  moment 
by  the  one  person  on  earth  who  could  make 
Yates'  tongue  falter. 

The  outer  door  to  the  kitchen  burst  open, 
and  Margaret  Howard  stood  on  the  threshold, 
her  lovely  face  aflame  with  indignation,  and  her 
dark  hair  down  over  her  shoulders,  forming  a 
picture  of  beauty  that  fairly  took  Yates'  breath 
away.     She  did  not  notice  him. 

"  O  Kitty,"  she  cried,  "  those  wretches 
have  stolen  all  our  horses !  Is  your  father 
here  ?  " 

"  What  wretches  }  "  asked  Kitty, "  noring  the 


194 


tn  tbc  flilDst  ot  Blarms. 


IV  t 


question,  and  startled  by  the  sudden  advent  of 
her  friend. 

"  The  Fenians.  They  have  taken  all  the 
horses  that  were  in  the  fields,  and  your  horses 
as  well.     So  I  ran  over  to  tell  you." 

"  Have  they  taken  your  own  horse,  too  ?  " 

"  No.  I  always  keep  Gypsy  in  the  stable. 
The  thieves  did  not  come  near  the  house.  Oh, 
Mr.  Yates!  I  did  not  see  you."  And  Mar- 
garet's hand,  with  the  unconscious  vanity  of  a 
woman,  sought  he  disheveled  hair,  which 
Yates  thought  too  becoming  ever  to  be  put  in 
order  again. 

Margaret  reddened  as  she  realized,  from 
Kitty's  evident  embarrassment,  that  she  had 
impulsively  broken  in  upon  a  conference  of  two. 

"  I  must  tell  your  father  about  it,"  she  said 
hurriedly,  and  before  Yates  could  open  the  door 
she  had  done  so  for  herself.  Again  she  was 
taken  aback  to  see  so  many  sitting  round  the 
table. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  between  the 
two  in  the  kitchen,  but  the  spell  was  broken. 

"  I — I  don't  suppose  there  will  be  any  trouble 
about  getting  back  the  horses,"  said  Yates 
hesitatingly.  "  If  you  lose  them,  the  Govern- 
ment will  have  to  pay." 

"  I  presume  so,"  answered  Kitty  coldly ;  then  : 
"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Yates  ;  I  mustn't  stay  here 
any  longer."  So  saying,  she  followed  Margaret 
into  the  other  room. 

Yates  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  All  his 
old  difficulties  of  preference  had  arisen  when 
the  outer  door  burst  open.  He  felt  that  he  had 
had  a  narrow  escape,  and  began  to  wonder  if  he 
had  really  committed  himself.  Then  the  fear 
swept  over  him  that  Margaret  might  have 
noticed  her  friend's  evident  confusion,  and  sur- 
mised its  cause.  He  wondered  whether  this 
would  help  him  or  hurt  him  with  Margaret,  if 


f  n  tbe  flblOet  of  Blarms. 


195 


he  finally  made  up  his  mind  to  favor  her  with 
his  serious  attentions.  Still,  he  reflected  that, 
after  all,  they  were  both  country  girls,  and 
would  no  doubt  be  only  too  eager  to  accept  a 
chance  to  live  in  New  York.  Thus  his  mind 
gradually  resumed  its  normal  state  of  self-con- 
fidence;  and  he  argued  that,  whatever  Mar- 
garet's suspicions  were,  they  could  not  but 
make  him  more  precious  in  her  eyes.  He  knew 
of  instances  where  the  very  danger  of  losing  a 
man  had  turned  a  won3n's  wavering  mind 
entirely  in  the  man's  favor.  When  he  had 
reached  this  point,  the  door  from  the  dining 
room  opened,  and  Stoliker  appeared. 

"We  are  waiting  for  you,"  said  the  constable. 

"  All  right.     I  am  ready." 

As  he  entered  the  room  he  saw  the  two  girls 
standing  together  talking  earnestly. 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  constable  for  twenty-four 
hours,"  cried  Mrs.  Bartlett.  "  I  would  be  hunt- 
ing horse  thieves  instead  of  handcuffing  inno- 
cent men," 

"  Come  along,"  said  the  impassive  Stoliker, 
taking  the  handcuffs  from  his  pocket. 

"  If  you  three  men,"  continued  Mrs.  Bartlett, 
"  cannot  take  those  two  to  camp,  or  to  jail,  or 
anywhere  else,  without  handcuffing  them,  I'll  go 
along  with  you  myself  and  protect  you,  and  see 
that  they  don't  escape.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself,  Sam  Stoliker,  if  you  have 
any  manhood  about  you — which  I  doubt." 

"  I  must  do  my  duty." 

The  professor  rose  from  his  chair.  "  Mr. 
Stoliker,"  he  said  with  determination,  "  my 
friend  and  myself  will  go  with  you  quietly. 
We  will  make  no  attempt  to  escape,  as  we  have 
done  nothing  to  make  us  fear  investigation. 
But  I  give  you  fair  warning  that  if  you  attempt 
to  put  a  handcuff  on  my  wrist  again  I  will 
smash  you." 


*       1 


i! 


( 


196 


ITn  tbe  ^iDst  ot  Blarme. 


A  cry  of  terror  from  one  of  the  girls,  it  the 
prospect  of  a  fight,  caused  the  professor  to 
reaUze  where  he  was.  He  turned  to  them  and 
said  in  a  contrite  voice  : 

"  Oil !  I  forgot  you  were  here.  I  sincerely 
beg  your  pardon." 

Margaret,  with  blazing  eyes,  cried  : 

"  Don't  beg  my  pardon,  but— smash  him." 

Then  a  consciousness  of  what  she  had 
said  overcame  her,  and  the  excited  girl  hid 
her  blushing  face  on  her  friend's  shoulder, 
while  Kitty  lovingly  sti  ked  her  dark,  tangled 
hair. 

Ren  mark  took  a  step  toward  them,  and 
stopped.  Yates,  with  his  usual  quickness, 
came  to  the  rescue,  and  his  cheery  voice  re- 
lieved the  tension  of  the  situation. 

"  Come,  come,  Stoliker,  don't  be  an  idiot.  I 
do  not  object  in  the  least  to  the  handcuffs  ;  and, 
if  you  are  dying  to  handcuff  somebody,  hand- 
cuff me.  It  hasn't  struck  your  luminous  mind 
that  you  have  not  the  first  tittle  of  evidence 
against  my  friend,  and  that,  even  if  I  were  the 
greatest  criminal  in  America,  the  fact  of  his 
being  with  me  is  no  crime.  The  truth  is, 
Stoliker,  that  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  shoes  for 
a  good  many  dollars.  You  talk  a  great  deal 
about  doing  your  duty,  but  you  have  exceeded 
it  in  the  case  of  the  professor.  I  hope  you  have 
no  property  ;  for  the  professor  can,  if  he  likes, 
make  you  pay  sweetly  for  putting  the  handcuffs 
on  him  without  a  warrant,  or  even  without  one 
jot  of  evidence.  What  is  the  penalty  for  false 
arrest,  Hiram  ? "  continued  Yates,  suddenly 
appealing  to  the  old  man.  "  I  think  it  is  a 
thousand  dollars." 

Hiram  said  gloomily  that  he  didn't  know. 
Stoliker  was  hit  on  a  tender  spot,  for  he  owned 
a  farm. 

"  Better  apologize  to  the  professor  and  let  us 


i 


ITn  tbe  /BbiDet  of  Blarms.         197 

get  along.     Good-by,  all.     Mrs.  Bartlett.  that 
breakfast  was  the  very  best  I  ever  tasted." 

The  good  woman  smiled  and  shook  hands 
with  him. 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Yates ;  and  I  hope  you  will 
soon  come  back  to  have  another." 

Stoliker  slipped  the  handcuffs  into  his 
pocket  again,  and  mounted  his  horse.  The 
girls,  from  the  veranda,  watched  the  processio.i 
move  up  the  dusty  road.  They  were  silent,  and 
had  even  forgotten  the  exciting  event  of  the 
stealing  of  the  horses. 


I 


wi 


III 


: 


\:  i'    «  -1   t 


ii!  1    f 


\ 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

When  the  two  prisoners,  with  their  three 
captors,  came  in  sight  of  the  Canadian  volun- 
teers, they  beheld  a  scene  which  was  much 
more  military  than  the  Fenian  camp.  They 
were  promptly  halted  and  questioned  by  a 
picket  before  coming  to  the  main  body ;  the 
sentry  knew  enough  not  to  shoot  until  he  had 
asked  for  the  countersign.  Passing  the  picket, 
they  came  in  full  view  of  the  Canadian  force, 
the  men  of  which  looked  very  spick  and  span 
in  uniforms  which  seemed  painfully  new  in  the 
clear  light  of  the  fair  June  morning.  The  guns, 
topped  by  a  bristle  of  bayonets  which  glittered 
as  the  rising  sun  shone  on  them,  were  stacked 
with  neat  precision  here  and  there.  The  men 
were  preparing  their  breakfast,  and  a  tempo- 
rary halt  had  been  called  for  that  purpose. 
The  volunteers  were  scattered  by  the  side  of 
the  road  and  in  the  fields.  Renmark  recog- 
nized the  colors  of  the  regiment  from  his  own 
city,  and  noticed  that  there  was  with  it  a  com- 
pany that  was  strange  to  him.  Although  led 
to  them  a  prisoner,  he  felt  a  glowing  pride  in 
the  regiment  and  their  trim  appearance — a 
pride  that  was  both  national  and  civic.  He 
instinctively  held  himself  more  erect  as  he 
approached. 

"  Renmark,"  said  Yates,  looking  at  him  with 
a  smile,  "  you  are  making  a  thoroughly  British 
mistake." 

"What  do  you  mean.?     I  haven't  spoken." 

"  No,  but   I   see   it   in   your  eye.     You  are 

198 


II 


tn  tbe  /RfOst  ot  alarms. 


199 


underestimating  the  enemy.  You  think  this 
pretty  company  is  going  to  wall<  over  that  body 
of  unl<empt  tramps  we  saw  in  the  woods  this 
morning." 

"  I  do  indeed,  if  the  tramps  wait  to  be  walked 
over — which  I  very  much  doubt." 

"  That's  just  where  you  make  a  mistake. 
Most  of  these  are  raw  boys,  who  know  all  that 
can  be  learned  of  war  on  a  cricket  field.  They 
will  be  the  worst  whipped  set  ot  young  fellows 
before  night  that  this  part  of  the  country  has 
ever  seen.  Wait  till  they  see  one  of  their  com- 
rades 11,  with  the  blood  gushing  out  of  a 
wound  in  his  breast.  If  they  don't  turn  and 
run,  then  I'm  a  Dutchman.  I've  seen  raw 
recruits  before.  They  should  have  a  company 
of  older  men  here  who  have  seen  service  to 
steady  them.  The  fellows  we  saw  this  morning 
were  sleeping  like  logs,  in  the  damp  woods,  as 
we  stepped  over  them.  They  are  veterans. 
What  will  be  but  a  mere  skirmish  to  them  will 
seem  to  these  boys  the  most  awful  tragedy  that 
ever  happened.  Why,  many  of  them  look  as  if 
they  might  be  university  lads." 

"  They  are,"  said  Renmark,  with  a  pang  of 
anguish. 

•'  Well,  I  can't  see  what  your  stupid  govern- 
ment means  by  sending  them  here  alone.  They 
should  have  at  least  one  company  of  regulars 
with  them." 

"  Probably  the  regulars  are  on  the  way." 

"  Perhaps ;  but  they  will  have  to  put  in  an 
appearance  mighty  sudden,  or  the  fight  wmII  be 
over.  If  these  boys  are  not  in  a  hurry  with 
their  meal,  the  Fenians  will  be  upon  them  before 
they  know  it.  If  there  is  to  be  a  fight,  it  will  be 
before  a  very  few  hours — before  one  hour  passes, 
perhaps;  and  you  are  going  to  see  a  miniature 
Bull  Run." 

Some  of  the  volunteers  crowded  around  the 


200 


Ifn  tbe  ISsi^Bt  of  Blarma. 


Ji  ! 


.(     I     ' 


1) 


incomers,  eagerly  inquiring  for  news  of  the 
enemy.  Tiie  Fenians  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  cut  all  the  telegraph  wires  leading  out  of 
Fort  Erie,  and  hence  those  in  command  of  the 
companies  did  not  even  know  that  the  enemy 
had  left  that  locality.  They  were  now  on  their 
way  to  a  point  where  they  were  to  meet  Colonel 
Peacocke's  force  of  regulars — a  point  which 
they  were  destined  never  to  reach.  Stoliker 
sought  an  officer  and  delivered  up  his  prisoners, 
together  with  the  incriminating  paper  that 
Yates  had  handed  to  him.  The  officer's  deci- 
sion was  short  and  sharp,  as  military  decisions 
are  generally  supposed  to  be.  He  ordered  the 
constable  to  take  both  the  prisoners  and  put 
them  in  jail  at  Port  Colborne.  There  was  no 
time  now  for  an  inquiry  into  the  case, — that 
could  come  afterward, — and,  so  long  as  the  men 
were  safe  in  jail,  everything  would  be  all  right. 
To  this  the  constable  mildly  interposed  two 
objections.  In  the  first  place,  he  said,  he  was 
with  the  volunteers  not  in  his  capacity  as  con- 
stable, but  in  the  position  of  guide  and  man 
who  knew  the  country.  In  the  second  place, 
there  was  no  jail  at  Port  Colborne. 

"  Where  is  the  nearest  jail  ?  " 

"  The  jail  of  the  county  is  at  Welland,  the 
county  town,"  replied  the  constable. 

•'  Very  well ;  take  them  there." 

"  But  I  am  here  as  guide,"  repeated  Stoliker. 

The  officer  hesitated  for  a  moment,  "  You 
haven't  handcuffs  with  you,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Stoliker,  producing  the 
implements. 

"  Well,  then,  handcuff  them  together,  and  I 
will  send  one  of  the  company  over  to  Welland 
with  them.     How  far  is  it  across  country  ?  " 

Stoliker  told  him. 

The  officer  called  one  of  the  volunteers,  and 
said  to  him : 


In  tbe  /HblDet  of  Blarms. 


201 


"  You  are  to  make  your  way  across  country 
to  Wellancl,  ar.d  deliver  these  men  up  to  ihe 
jailer  there.  They  will  be  handcuffed  together, 
but  you  take  a  revolver  with  you,  and  if  they 
give  you  any  trouble,  shoot  them." 

The  volunteer  reddened,  and  drew  himself 
up.  "  I  am  not  a  policeman,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
a  soldier." 

"  Very  well,  then,  your  first  duty  as  a  soldier 
is  to  obey  orders.  I  order  you  to  take  these 
men  to  Welland." 

The  volunteers  had  crowded  around  as  this 
discussion  went  on,  and  a  murmur  rose  among 
them  at  the  order  of  the  officer.  They  evi- 
dently sympathized  with  their  comrade's  objec- 
tion to  the  duties  of  a  policeman.  One  of  them 
made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  cried : 

"  Hello !  this  is  the  professor.  This  is  Mr. 
Renmark.  He's  no  Fenian."  Two  or  three 
more  of  the  university  students  recognized 
Renmark,  and,  pushing  up  to  him,  greeted  him 
warmly.  He  was  evidently  a  favorite  with  his 
class.  Among  others  young  Howard  pressed 
forward. 

"It  is  nonsense,"  he  cried,  "talking  about 
sending  Professor  Renmark  to  jail  !  He  is  no 
more  a  Fenian  than  Governor-General  Monck. 
We'll  all  go  bail  for  the  professor." 

The  officer  wavered.  "  If  you  know  him," 
he  said,  "  that  is  a  different  matter.  But  this 
other  man  has  a  letter  from  the  commander  of 
the  Fenians,  recommending  him  to  the  con- 
sideration of  all  friends  of  the  Fenian  cause. 
I  can't  let  him  go  free." 

"  Are  you  the  chief  in  command  here  ? " 
asked  Renmark. 

"  No,  I  am  not." 

"  Mr.  Yates  is  a  friend  of  mine  who  is  here 
with  me  on  his  vacation.  He  is  a  New  York 
journalist,  and  has  nothing  in  common  with  the 


I 


u 


202 


•ffn  tbe  ^150t  of  Blarm0. 


invaders.  If  you  insist  on  sending  him  to 
Welland,  I  must  demand  that  we  be  taken 
before  the  officer  in  command.  In  any  case,  he 
and  I  stand  or  fall  together.  I  am  exactly  as 
guilty  or  innocent  as  he  is." 

"We  can't  bother  the  colonel  about  eveiy 
triviality." 

"  A  man's  liberty  is  no  triviality.  What,  in 
the  name  of  common  sense,  are  you  fighting 
for  but  liberty  ?  " 

"  Thanks,  Renmark,  thanks,"  said  Yates  ; 
"  but  I  don't  care  to  see  the  colonel,  and  I  shall 
welcome  Welland  jail.  I  am  tired  of  all  this 
bother,  I  came  here  for  rest  and  quiet,  and  I 
am  going  to  have  them,  if  I  have  to  go  to  jail 
for  them.  I'm  coming  reluctantly  to  the  belief 
that  ja'l's  the  most  comfortable  place  in 
Canada,  anyhow." 

"  But  this  is  an  outrage,"  cried  the  professor 
indignantly. 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  replied  Yates  wearily ; 
"but  the  woods  are  full  of  them.  There's 
always  outrages  going  on,  especially  in  so-called 
free  countries  ;  therefore  one  more  or  less  won't 
make  much  difference.  Come,  officer,  who's 
going  to  take  me  to  Welland  ?  or  shall  I  have 
to  go  by  myself.^  I'm  a  Fenian  from 'way 
back,  and  came  here  especially  to  overturn  the 
throne  and  take  it  home  with  me.  F'or  Heaven's 
sake,  know  your  own  mind  one  way  or  other, 
and  let  us  end  this  conference." 

The  officer  was  wroth.  He  speedily  gave  the 
order  to  Stoliker  to  handcuff  the  prisoner  to  him- 
self, and  deliver  him  to  the  jailer  at  Welland. 

"  But  I  want  assistance,"  objected  Stoliker. 
"  The  prisoner  is  a  bigger  man  than  I  am." 
The  volunteers  laughed  as  Stoliker  mentioned 
this  self-evident  fact. 

"  If  anyone  likes  to  go  with  you,  he  can  go. 
I  shall  give  no  orders." 


In  tbe  ItsitfBt  ot  Blarmg. 


203 


No  one  volunteered  to  accompany  the 
constable. 

"  Take  this  revolver  with  you,"  continued  the 
officer,  *'  and  if  he  attempts  to  escape,  shoot 
him.  Besides,  you  know  the  way  to  Welland, 
so  I  can't  send  anybody  in  your  place,  even  if  I 
wanted  to." 

"  Howard  knows  the  Vv^ay,"  persisted  Stoliker. 
That  young  man  spoke  up  with  great  indigna- 
tion :  •*  Yes,  but  Howard  isn't  constable,  and 
Stoliker  is.     I'm  not  going." 

Renmark  went  up  to  his  friend. 

"  Who's  acting  foolishly  now,  Yates  ?  "  he 
said.  "  Why  don't  you  insist  on  seeing  the 
colonel  ?  The  chances  are  ten  to  one  that  you 
would  be  allowed  off." 

•'  Don't  make  any  mistake.  The  colonel  will 
very  likely  be  some  fussy  individual  who  mag- 
nifies his  own  importance,  and  who  will  send  a 
squad  of  volunteers  to  escort  me,  and  I  want  to 
avoid  that.  These  officers  always  stick  by  each 
other ;  they're  bound  to.  I  want  to  go  alone 
with  Stoliker.  I  have  a  score  to  settle  with 
him." 

"  Now,  don't  do  anything  rash.  You've  done 
nothing  so  far ;  but  if  you  assault  an  officer  of 
the  law,  that  will  be  a  different  matter." 

"  Satan  reproving  sin.  Who  prevented  you 
from  hitting  Stoliker  a  short  time  since  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  was  wrong  then.  You  are  wrong 
now." 

"  See  here,  Renny,"  whispered  Yates  ;  "  you 
get  back  to  the  tent,  and  see  that  everything's 
all  right.  I'll  be  with  you  in  an  hour  or  so. 
Don't  look  so  frightened.  I  wont  hurt  Stoliker. 
But  I  want  to  see  this  fight,  and  I  won't  get 
there  if  the  colonel  sends  an  escort.  I'm  going 
to  use  Stoliker  as  a  shield  when  the  bullets  be- 
gin flying." 

The  bugles  sounded  for  the  troops  to  fall  in, 


i 


r 


204 


Hn  tbe  ^lOet  of  Blarm0, 


i  > 


^v 


and  Stoliker  very  reluctantly  attached  one  clasp 
of  the  handcuff  around  his  own  left  wrist,  while 
he  snapped  the  other  on  the  right  wrist  of  Yates, 
who  embarrassed  him  with  kindly  assistance. 
The  two  manacled  men  disappeared  down  the 
road,  while  the  volunteers  rapidly  fell  in  to  con- 
tinue their  morning's  march. 

Young  Howard  beckoned  to  the  professor 
from  his  place  in  the  ranks.  "  1  say,  professor, 
how  did  you  happen  to  be  down  this  way  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  camping  out  here  for  a  week  or 
more  with  Yates,  who  is  an  old  schoolfellow  of 
mine." 

'•  What  a  shame  to  have  him  led  off  in  that 
way  !  But  he  seemed  to  rather  like  the  idea. 
Tolly  fellow,  I  should  say.  How  I  wish  I  had 
known  you  were  in  this  neighborhood.  My 
folks  live  near  here.  They  would  only  have 
been  too  glad  to  be  of  assistance  to  you." 

"  They  have  been  of  assistance  to  me,  and 
exceedingly  kind  as  well." 

"What.?  You  know  them.?  All  of  them? 
Have  you  met  Margaret  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  professor  slowly,  but  his 
glance  fell  as  it  encountered  the  eager  eyes  of 
the  youth.  It  was  evident  that  Margaret  was 
the  brother's  favorite. 

"  Fall  back,  there  I  "  cried  the  officer  to  Ren- 
mark. 

"  May  I  march  along  with  them  ?  or  can  you 
give  me  a  gun,  and  let  me  take  part  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  off'^er  with  some  hauteur ; 
"  this  is  no  place  for .  ./ilians."  Again  the  pro- 
fessor smiled  as  he  reflected  that  the  wnole 
company,  as  far  as  martial  experience  went, 
were  merely  civilians  dressed  in  uniform  ;  but 
he  became  grave  again  when  he  remembered 
Yates'  ominous  prediction  regarding  them. 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Renmark,"  cried  young  Howard, 
as  the  company  moved  off,  "  if  you  see  any  of 


■ffn  tbe  lBbit>6t  of  Blarma* 


205 


clasp 
while 
^^ates, 
tance. 
m  the 
0  con- 

•fessor 
fessor, 

r?" 

eek  or 
How  of 

in  that 
le  idea. 
I  had 
I.  My 
y  have 

ne,  and 

them? 

but  his 
eyes  of 
jet  was 

0  Ren- 
can  you 

auteur ; 
the  pio- 
wnole 
ce  went, 
rm  ;  but 
embered 

■lem. 
Howard, 

;e  any  of 


le 


them,  don't  tell  them  I'm  here — especially 
Margaret.  It  might  make  them  uneasy.  I'll  get 
leave  when  this  is  over,  and  drop  in  on  them." 

The  boy  spoke  with  the  hopeful  confidence 
of  youth,  and  had  evident!)  no  premonition  of 
how  his  appointment  would  be  kept.  Renmark 
left  the  road,  and  struck  across  country  in  the 
direction  of  the  tent. 

Meanwhile,  two  men  were  tramping  steadily 
along  the  dusty  road  toward  Weiland  :  the 
captor  moody  and  silent,  the  prisoner  tall<ative 
and  entertaining — indeed,  Yates'  conversation 
often  went  beyond  entertainment,  and  became, 
at  times,  instructive.  He  discussed  the  affairs 
of  both  countries,  showed  a  way  out  of  all 
political  difficulties,  gave  reasons  for  the  practical 
use  of  conmion  sense  in  every  emergency, 
passed  opinions  on  the  methods  of  agriculture 
adopted  in  various  parts  of  the  country,  told 
stories  of  the  war,  gave  instances  of  men  in 
captivity  murdering  those  who  were  in  charge 
of  them,  deduced  from  these  anecdotes  the 
foolishness  of  resisting  lawful  authority  lawfully 
exercised,  and,  in  general,  showed  that  he  was 
a  man  who  respected  power  and  the  exercise 
thereof.  Suddenly  branching  to  more  practical 
matters,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Say,  Stoliker,  how  many  taverns  are  there 
between  here  and  Weiland  ?  " 

Stoliker  had  never  counted  them. 

*•  Well,  that's  encouraging,  anyhow.  If  there 
are  so  many  that  it  requires  an  effort  of  the 
memory  to  enumerate  them,  we  will  likely  have 
something  to  drink  before  long." 

"  I  never  drink  while  on  duty,"  said  Stoliker 
curtly. 

"  Oh,  well,  don't  apologize  for  it.  Every 
man  has  his  failings.  I'll  be  only  too  happy  to 
give  you  some  instructions.  I  have  acquired 
the  useful  practice  of  being  able  to  drink  boih 


206 


1Fn  tbe  /iRlDat  of  Blarms. 


IM 


f 


on  and  off  duty.  Anything  can  be  done,  Stoliker, 
if  you  give  your  mind  to  it.  I  don't  believe  in 
the  word  'can't,'  either  with  or  without  the 
marl<  of  elision." 

Stoliker  did  not  answer,  and  Yates  yawned 
wearily. 

"  I  wish  you  would  hire  a  rig,  constable.  I'm 
tired  of  walking.  I've  been  on  my  feet  ever 
since  three  this  morning." 

"  I  have  no  authority  to  hire  a  buggy." 

"  But  what  do  you  do  when  a  prisoner  refuses 
to  move  ?  " 

"  I  make  him  move,"  said  Stoliker  shortly. 

"  Ah,  I  see.  That's  a  good  plan,  and  saves 
bills  at  the  livery  stable," 

They  came  to  a  tempting  bank  by  the  road- 
side, when  Yates  cried  : 

"  Let's  sit  down  and  have  a  rest.  I'm  done 
out.  The  sun  is  hot,  and  tlie  road  dusty.  You 
can  let  me  have  half  an  hour :  the  day's  young 
yet." 

"  I'll  let  you  have  fifteen  minutes." 

They  sat  down  together.  "  I  wish  a  team 
would  come  along,"  said  Yates  with  a  sigh. 

"No  chance  of  a  team,  with  most  of  the 
horses  in  the  neighborhood  stolen,  and  the 
troops  on  the  roads." 

"  That's  so,"  assented  Yates  sleepily. 

He  was  evidently  tired  out,  for  his  chin 
dropped  on  his  breast,  and  his  eyes  closed. 
His  breathing  came  soft  and  regular,  and  his 
body  leaned  toward  the  constable,  who  sat  bolt 
upright.  Yate's  left  arm  fell  across  the  knees 
of  Stoliker,  and  he  leaned  more  and  more 
heavily  against  him.  The  constable  did  not 
know  whether  he  was  shamming  or  not,  but  he 
took  no  risks.  He  kept  his  grasp  firm  on  the 
butt  of  the  revolver.  Yet,  he  reflected,  Yates 
could  surely  not  meditate  an  attempt  on  his 
weapon,  for  he  had,  a  few  minutes  before,  told 


•ffn  tbe  /lRi09t  of  Blarms, 


207 


him  a  story  about  a  prisoner  who  escaped  in 
exactly  that  way.  Stoliker  was  suspicious  of 
the  good  intentions  of  the  man  he  had  in 
charge  ;  he  was  altogether  too  polite  and  good- 
natured  ;  and,  besides,  the  constable  dumbly 
felt  that  the  prisoner  was  a  much  cleverer  man 
than  he. 

"Here,  sit  up,"  he  said  gruffly.  "I'm  not 
paid  to  carry  you,  you  know." 

"What's  that?  What's  that.?  What's 
that?  "cried  Yates  rapidly,  blinking  his  eyes 
and  straightening  up.  "Oli,  it's  only  you, 
Stoliker.  I  thought  it  was  my  friend  Renmark. 
Have  I  been  asleep  ? 

"  Either  that  or  pretending — I  don't  know 
which,  and  I  don't  care." 

"  Oh !  I  must  have  been  pretending,"  an- 
wered  Yates  drowsily  ;  "  I  can't  have  dropped 
asleep.     How  long  have  we  been  here  ?  " 

"  About  five  minutes." 

"  All  right."  And  Yates'  head  began  to 
droop  again. 

This  time  the  constable  felt  no  doubt  about 
it.  No  man  could  imitate  sleep  so  well. 
Several  times  Yates  nearly  fell  forward,  and 
each  time  saved  himself,  with  the  usual  luck  of 
a  sleeper  or  a  drunkard.  Nevertheless,  Stoliker 
never  took  his  hand  from  his  revolver.  Sud- 
denly, with  a  greater  lurch  than  usual,  Yates 
pitched  head  first  down  the  bank,  carrying  the 
constable  with  him.  The  steel  band  of  the  hand- 
cuff nipped  the  wrist  of  Stoliker,  who,  with  an 
oath  and  a  cry  of  pain,  instinctively  grasped  the 
links  between  with  his  right  hand,  to  save  his 
wrist.  Like  a  cat,  Yates  was  upon  him,  show- 
ing marvelous  agility  for  a  man  who  had  just 
tumbled  in  a  heap.  The  next  instant  he  held 
aloft  the  revolver,  crying  triumphantly  : 

"  How's  that,  umpire  ?     Out,  I  expect." 

The  constable,  with  set  teeth,  still  rubbed  his 


f 

1 


h 


\u    » 


'4 


% 


208 


■ffn  tbe  /IBiDst  of  Xllarms. 


wounded  wrist,   realizing   the  helplessness  of 
a  struggle. 

"  Now,  Stoliker,"  said  Yates,  pointing  the 
pistol  at  him,  "what  have  you  to  say  before  I 
fire  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  answered  the  constable,  "  except 
that  you  will  be  hanged  at  Welland,  instead  of 
staying  a  few  days  in  jail." 

Yates  laughed.  "That's  not  bad,  Stoliker; 
and  I  really  believe  there's  some  grit  in  you,  if 
you  are  a  man-catcher.  Still,  you  were  not  in 
very  much  danger,  as  perhaps  you  knew.  Now, 
if  you  should  want  this  pistol  again,  just  watch 
where  it  alights."  And  Yates,  taking  the 
weapon  by  the  muzzle,  tossed  it  as  far  as  he 
could  into  the  field. 

Stoliker  watched  its  flight  intently,  then,  put- 
ting his  hand  into  his  pocket,  he  took  out  some 
small  object  and  flung  it  as  nearly  as  he  could 
to  the  spot  where  the  revolver  fell. 

"  Is  that  how  you  mark  the  place?  "  asked 
Yates  ;  "  or  is  it  some  spell  that  will  enable  you 
to  find  the  pistol  ?  " 

'•  Neither,"  answered  the  constable  quietly. 
"  It  is  the  key  of  the  handcuffs.  The  duplicate 
is  at  Welland." 

Yates  whistled  a  prolonged  note,  and  looked 
with  admiration  at  the  little  man.  He  saw  the 
hopelessness  of  the  situation.  If  he  attempted 
to  search  for  the  key  in  the  long  grass,  the 
chances  were  ten  to  one  that  Stoliker  would 
stumble  on  the  pistol  before  Yates  found  the 
key,  in  which  case  the  reporter  would  be  once 
more  at  the  mercy  of  the  law. 

"  Stoliker,  you're  evidently  fonder  of  my 
company  than  I  am  of  yours.  That  wasn't  a 
bad  strategic  move  on  your  part,  but  it  may 
cause  you  some  personal  inconvenience  before 
I  get  these  handcuffs  filed  off.  I'm  not  going 
to  Welland  this  trip,  as  you  may  be  disappointed 


T 


1i 


T 


ITn  tbe  /BbiDdt  of  laiacme. 


209 


jsness  of 

Uing   the 
!  before  I 

,  "  except 
nstead  of 

Stoliker ; 
in  you,  if 
;re  not  in 
^v.  Now, 
list  watch 
king  the 
far  as  he 

then,  put- 
out  some 
>  he  could 

? "  asked 
nable  you 

e  quietly, 
duplicate 

nd  looked 
e  saw  the 
attempted 
grass,  the 
ker  would 
found  the 
d  be  once 

IX  of  my 
t  wasn't  a 
ut  it  may 
nee  before 
not  going 
sap  pointed 


ri 


to  learn.  I  have  gone  with  you  as  Idx  as  I 
intend  to.     You  will  now  come  with  me." 

"  I  shall  not  move,"  replied  the  constable 
firmly. 

"  Very  well,  stay  there,"  said  Yates,  twisting 
his  hantl  around  so  as  to  grasp  the  chain  that 
joined  the  cuffs.  Getting  a  tirm  grip,  he  walked 
up  the  road,  down  which  they  had  tramped  a 
few  minutes  before.  Stoliker  set  his  teeth  and 
tried  to  hold  his  ground,  but  was  forced  to 
follow.  Nothing  was  said  by  either  until 
several  hundred  yards  were  thus  traversed. 
Then  Yates  stopped. 

"Having  now  demonstrated  to  you  the  fact 
that  you  must  accompany  me,  I  hope  you  will 
sliow  yourself  a  sensible  man,  Stoliker,  and  come 
with  me  quietly.  It  will  be  less  exhausting  for 
both  of  us,  and  all  the  same  in  the  end.  You  can 
do  nothing  until  you  get  help.  I  am  going  to  see 
the  fight,  which  I  feel  sure  will  be  a  brief  one, 
so  I  don't  want  to  lose  any  more  time  in  getting 
back.  In  order  to  avoid  meeting  people,  and 
having  me  explain  to  them  that  you  are  my 
prisoner,  I  propose  we  go  through  the  fields." 

One  difference  between  a  fool  and  a  wise  man 
is  that  the  wise  man  always  accepts  the  inevi- 
table. The  constable  was  wise.  The  two 
crossed  the  rail  fence  into  the  fields,  and  walked 
along  peaceably  together — Stoliker  silent,  as 
usual,  with  the  grim  confidence  of  a  man  who 
is  certain  of  ultimate  success,  who  has  the 
nation  behind  him,  with  all  's  machinery  work- 
ing in  his  favor  ;  Yates  talkauve,  argumentative, 
and  instructive  by  turns,  occasionally  breaking 
forth  into  song  when  the  unresponsiveness  of 
the  other  rendered  conversation  difificult. 

"  Stoliker,  how  supremely  lovely  and  quiet 
and  restful  are  the  silent,  scented,  spreading 
fields !  How  soothing  to  a  spirit  tired  of  the 
city's  din  is  this  solitude,  broken  only  by  the 


ij^aigntw  ■iirra-.w 


n  1        ^ 


H 


Aj        i 


2IO 


Ifn  tbe  ^(Dst  ot  Blarms. 


singing  of  the  birds  and  the  drowsy  droning  of 
the  bee,  erroneously  termed  '  bumble  ' !  The 
green  fields,  the  shady  trees,  the  sweet  fresh- 
ness of  the  summer  air,  untainted  by  city  smoke, 
and  over  all  the  eternal  serenity  of  the  blue  un- 
clouded sky — how  can  human  spite  and  human 
passion  exist  in  such  a  paradise  ?  Does  it  all 
not  make  you  feel  as  if  you  were  an  innocent 
child  again,  with  motives  pure  and  conscience 
white?" 

If  Stoliker  felt  like  an  innocent  child,  he  did 
not  look  it.  With  clouded  brow  he  eagerly 
scanned  the  empty  fields,  hoping  for  help.  But, 
although  the  constable  made  no  reply,  there 
was  an  answer  that  electrified  Yates,  and  put 
all  tiiought  of  the  beauty  of  the  country  out  of 
his  mind.  The  dull  report  of  a  musket,  far  in 
front  of  them,  suddenly  broke  the  silence,  fol- 
lowed by  several  scattering  shots,  and  then  the 
roar  of  a  volley.  This  was  sharply  answered 
by  the  ring  of  rifles  to  the  right.  With  an  oath, 
Yates  broke  into  a  run. 

"  They're  at  it ! "  he  cried,  "  and  all  on  ac- 
count of  your  confounded  obstinacy  I  shall 
miss  the  whole  show.  The  F'enians  have 
opened  fire,  and  the  Canadians  have  not  been 
long  in  replying." 

The  din  of  the  firing  now  became  incessant. 
The  veteran  in  Yates  was  aroused.  He  v^^as 
like  an  old  war  horse  who  again  feels  the  in- 
toxicating smell  of  battle  smoke.  The  lunacy 
of  gunpower  shone  in  his  gleaming  eye. 

"  Come  on,  you  loitering  idiot !  "  he  cried  to 
the  constable,  who  had  difficulty  in  keeping 
pace  with  him  ;  "  come  on,  or,  by  the  gods !  I'll 
break  your  wrist  across  a  fence  rail  and  tear 
this  brutal  iron  from  it." 

The  savage  face  of  the  prisoner  was  trans- 
formed with  the  passion  of  war,  and,  for  the 
first  time  that  day,  Stoliker  quailed  before  the 


In  the  ^i:)dt  or  Blarme, 


211 


insane  glare  of  his  eyes.  But  if  he  was  afraid, 
he  did  not  show  h".s  fear  to  Yates. 

"Come  on,  you  /  "  he  shouted,  springing 
ahead,  and  giving  a  twist  to  the  handcuffs  well 
known  to  those  who  have  to  deal  with  refrac- 
tory criminals.  "  I  am  as  eager  to  see  the  fight 
as  you  are." 

The  sharp  pain  brought  Yates  to  his  senses 
again.  He  laughed,  and  said :  "  That's  the 
ticket.  I'm  witii  you.  Perhaps  you  would  not 
be  in  sucii  a  hurry  if  you  knew  that  I  am  going 
into  the  tl.ick  of  the  fight,  and  intend  to  use 
you  as  a  shield  from  the  bullets." 

"  That's  all  right,"  answered  the  little  con- 
stable, panting.  "Two  sides  are  firing.  I'll 
shield  you  on  one  side,  and  you'll  have  to  shield 
me  on  the  other." 

Again  Yates  laughed,  and  they  ran  silently 
together.  Avoiding  the  houses,  they  came  out 
at  the  Ridge  Road.  The  smoke  rolled  up  above 
the  trees,  showing  where  the  battle  was  going 
on  some  distance  beyond.  Yates  made  the 
constable  cross  the  fence  and  the  road,  and 
take  to  the  fields  again,  bringing  hini  around 
behind  Bartlett's  house  and  barn.  No  one  was 
visible  near  the  house  except  Kitty  Bartlett,  who 
stood  at  the  back  watching,  with  pale  and 
anxious  face,  the  rolling  smoke,  now  and 
then  covering  her  ears  with  her  hands  as  the 
sound  of  an  extra  loud  volley  assailed  them. 
Stoliker  lifted  up  his  voice  and  shouted  for 
help. 

"  If  you  do  that  again,"  cried  Yates,  clutch- 
ing him  by  the  throat,  "  I'll  choke  you  !  " 

But  he  did  not  need  to  do  it  again.  The 
girl  heard  the  cry,  turm  with  a  frightened 
look,  and  was  about  to  fly  into  the  house  when 
she  recognized  the  two.  Then  she  came  toward 
them.  Yates  took  his  hand  away  from  the  con- 
stable's throat. 


■^rw 


212 


Ifn  tbe  /Iftl&et  ot  Blarms, 


If' 


V  -?^! 


■(         f: 


"  Where  is  your  father  or  your  brother  ?  "  de- 
manded the  constable. 

*'  I  don't  know." 

"  Where  is  your  mother?  " 

"  She  is  over  with  Mrs.  Howard,  who  is  ill." 

"  Are  you  all  alone  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  command  you,  in  the  name  of  the 
Queen,  to  give  no  assistance  to  this  prisoner,  but 
to  do  as  I  tell  you." 

"  And  I  command  you,  in  the  name  of  the 
President,"  cried  Yates,  "  to  keep  your  mouth 
shut,  and  not  to  address  a  lady  like  that.  Kitty," 
he  continued  in  a  milder  tone,  "  could  you  tell 
me  where  to  get  a  file,  so  that  I  may  cut  these 
wrist  ornaments  ?  Don't  you  get  it.  You  are 
to  do  nothing.  Just  indicate  where  the  file  is. 
The  law  mustn't  have  any  hold  on  you,  as  it 
seems  to  have  on  me." 

"  Why  don't  you  make  him  unlock  them  ?  " 
asked  Kitty. 

"  Because  the  villain  threw  away  the  key  in 
the  fields." 

"  He  couldn't  have  done  that." 

The  constable  caught  his  breath. 

"  But  he  did.     I  saw  him." 

"  And  I  saw  him  unlock  them  at  breakfast. 
The  key  was  on  the  end  of  his  watch  chain. 
He  hasn't  thrown  that  away." 

She  made  a  move  to  take  out  his  watch  chain 
but  Yates  stopped  her. 

*'  Don't  touch  him.  I'm  playing  a  lone  hand 
here."  He  jerked  out  the  chain,  and  the  real 
key  dangled  from  it. 

"  Well,  Stoliker,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  know 
which  to  admire  most — your  cleverness  and 
pluck,  my  stupidity,  or  Miss  Bartlett's  acuteness 
of  observation.  Can  we  get  into  the  barn, 
Kitty?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  mustn't  hurt  him." 


1*1 


^i 


•ffn  tbc  flbi&et  ot  Blarms. 


213 


"  No  fear.  I  think  too  much  of  him.  Don't 
you  come  in.  I'll  be  out  in  a  moment,  like  the 
medium  from  a  spiritualistic  dark  cabinet." 

Entering  the  barn,  Yates  forced  the  constable 
up  against  the  square  oaken  post  which  was 
part  of  the  framework  of  the  building,  and 
which  formed  one  side  of  the  perpendicular 
ladder  that  led  to  the  top  of  the  hay  mow. 

"  Now,  Stoliker,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  you 
realize,  of  course,  that  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you  ; 
yet  you  also  realize  that  I  must  hurt  you  if  you 
attempt  any  tricks.  I  can't  take  any  risks, 
please  remember  that ;  and  recollect  that,  by 
the  time  you  are  free  again,  I  shall  be  in  the 
State  of  New  York.  So  don't  compel  me  to 
smash  your  head  against  this  post."  He,  with 
some  trouble,  unlocked  the  clasp  on  his  own 
wrist ;  then,  drawing  Stoliker's  right  hand 
around  the  post,  he  snapped  the  same  clasp  on 
the  constable's  hitherto  free  wrist.  The  unfor- 
tunate man,  with  his  cheek  against  the  oak,  was 
in  the  comical  position  of  lovingly  embracing 
the  post. 

"  I'll  get  you  a  chair  from  the  kitchen,  so  that 
you  will  be  more  comfortable — unless,  like 
Samson,  you  can  pull  down  the  supports.  Then 
I  must  bid  you  good-by." 

Yates  went  out  to  the  girl,  who  was  waiting 
for  him. 

"  I  want  to  borrow  a  kitchen  chair,  Kitty,"  he 
said,  "  so  that  poor  Stoliker  will  get  a  rest." 

They  walked  toward  the  house.  Yates 
noticed  that  the  firing  had  ceased,  except  a 
desultory  shot  here  and  there  across  the 
country. 

'•  I  shall  have  to  retreat  over  the  border  as 
quickly  as  I  can,"  he  continued.  "  This  country 
is  getting  too  hot  for  me." 

"  You  are  much  safer  here,"  said  the  girl,  with 
downcast  eyes.     "  A  man  has  brought  the  news 


^14 


•ffn  tbe  ^iO0t  ot  Blarms, 


ihk 


\ ' 


n- 


that  the  United  States  gunboats  are  sailing  up 
and  down  the  river,  making  prisoners  of  all  who 
attempt  to  cross  from  this  side." 

"  You  don't  say !  Well,  I  might  have  known 
that.  Then  what  am  I  to  do  with  Stoliker?  I 
can't  keep  him  tied  up  here.  Yet  the  moment 
he  gets  loose  I'm  done  for." 

"  Perhaps  mother  could  persuade  him  not  to 
do  anything  more.     Shall  I  go  for  her?" 

•'  I  don't  think  it  would  be  any  use.  Stoli- 
ker's  a  stubborn  animal.  He  has  suffered  too 
much  at  my  hands  to  be  in  a  forgiving  mood. 
We'll  bring  him  a  chair,  anyhow,  and  see  the 
effect  of  kindness  on  him." 

When  the  chair  was  placed  at  Stoliker's  dis- 
posal, he  sat  down  upon  it,  still  hugging  the 
post  with  an  enforced  fervency  that,  in  spite  of 
the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  nearly  made 
Kitty  laugh,  and  lit  up  her  eyes  with  the 
mischievousness  that  had  always  delighted 
Yates. 

"  How  long  am  I  to  be  kept  here  ?  "  asked 
the  constable. 

•'  Oh,  not  long,"  answered  Yates  cheerily  ; 
"  not  a  moment  longer  than  is  necessary.  I'll 
telegraph  when  I'm  safe  in  New  York  State  ; 
so  you  won't  be  here  more  than  a  day  or  two." 

This  assurance  did  not  appear  to  bring  much 
comfort  to  Stoliker. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  ;  "  I  guess  I  know  as 
well  as  the  next  man  when  I'm  beaten.  I  have 
been  thinking  all  this  over.  I  am  under  the 
sheriff's  orders,  and  not  under  the  orders  of 
that  officer.  I  don't  believe  you've  done  any- 
thing, anyhow,  or  you  wouldn't  have  acted 
quite  the  way  you  did.  If  the  sheriff  had  sent 
me,  it  would  have  been  different.  As  it  is,  if 
you  unlock  those  cuffs.  I'll  give  you  my  word 
I'll  do  nothing  more  unless  I'm  ordered  to. 
Like  as  not  they've  forgotten  all  about  you  by 


'■    r- 


tn  tbe  ^idat  ot  Blarms* 


215 


ling  up 
all  who 

known 
ker?  I 
noment 

not  to 
It 

,  Stoli- 
;red  too 
T  mood, 
see  the 

er's  dis- 
cing the 
spite  of 
ly  made 
.vith  the 
iehghted 

"  asked 


this    time ;    and    there's    nothing    on    record, 

anyhow." 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?     Will  you  act  square  ?  " 
"Certainly  I'll  act  square.     I  don't  suppose 

you  doubt  that.     I  didn't  ask  any  favors  before, 

and  I  did  what  I  could  to  hold  you." 

"Enough  said,"  cried  Yates.     "  I'll  risk  it." 
Stoliker  stretched  his  arms  wearily  above  his 

head  when  he  was  released. 

"  I    wonder,"   he   said,  now  that  Kitty  was 

gone,   "  if    there    is  anything    to   eat    in    the 

house?" 

"  Shake  !"  cried  Yates,  holding  out  his  hand 

to  him.     "  Another  great  and  mutual  sentiment 

unites  us,  Stoliker.     Let  us  go  and  see." 


cheerily ; 
ary.  I'll 
•k  State  j 
or  two." 
ing  much 

know  as 
.  I  have 
mder  the 
orders  of 
done  any- 
ive  acted 
[  had  sent 
\s  it  is,  if 
my  word 
dered  to. 
lut  you  by 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


"u   ;( 


;  '  i 

1; 


■If 


The  man  who  wanted  to  see  the  fight  did 
not  see  it,  and  the  man  who  did  not  want  to 
see  it  saw  it.  Yates  arrived  on  the  field  of 
conflict  when  all  was  over  ;  Ren  mark  found  the 
battle  raging  around  him  before  he  realized 
that  things  had  reached  a  crisis. 

When  Yates  reached  the  tent,  he  found  it 
empty  and  torn  by  bullets.  The  fortunes  of 
war  had  smashed  the  jar,  and  the  fragments 
were  strewn  before  the  entrance,  probably  by 
some  disappointed  man  who  had  tried  to 
sample  the  contents  and  had  found  nothing. 

"  Hang  it  all ! "  said  Yates  to  himself,  "  I 
wonder  what  the  five  assistants  that  the  Argus 
sent  me  have  done  with  themselves  ?  If  they 
are  with  the  Fenians,  beating  a  retreat,  or, 
worse,  if  they  are  captured  by  the  Canadians, 
they  won't  be  able  to  get  an  account  of  this 
scrimmage  through  to  the  paper.  Now,  this  is 
evidently  the  biggest  item  of  the  year — it's  in- 
ternational, by  George!  It  may  involve  Eng- 
land and  the  United  States  in  a  war,  if  both 
sides  are  not  extra  mild  and  cautious.  I  can't 
run  the  chance  of  the  paper  being  left  in  the 
lurch.  Let  me  think  a  minute.  Is  it  my  tip  to 
follow  the  Canadians  or  the  Fenians  ?  I  wonder 
which  is  running  the  faster  ?  My  men  are  evi- 
dently with  the  Fenians,  if  they  were  on  the 
ground  at  all.  If  I  go  after  the  Irish  Republic, 
I  shall  run  the  risk  of  duplicating  things ;  but  if 
I  follow  the  Canadians,  they  may  put  me  under 
arrest.    Then   we  have  more  Fenian  sympa- 

216 


^ 


ht  did 
ant  to 
ield  of 
nd  the 
ealized 

)und  it 
ines  of 
gments 
ibly  by 
ried    to 

ing. 
elf.   "I 

Argus 

If  they 
reat,  or, 
nadians, 

of  this 
/,  this  is 
-it's  in- 
;^e  Eng- 

if  both 

I  can't 
ft  in  the 
ny  tip  to 

wonder 
1  are  evi- 
:  on  the 
Lepublic, 
s;  but  if 
le  under 

sympa- 


■ffn  tbe  m^$t  of  Blarma, 


217 


thizers  among  our  readers  than  Canadians,  so 
the  account  from  the  invasion  side  of  the  fence 
will  be  the  more  popular.  Yet  a  Canadian  ver- 
sion would  be  a  good  thing,  if  I  were  sure  the 
rest  of  the  boys  got  in  their  work,  and  the 
chances  are  that  the  other  papers  won't  have 
any  reporters  among  the  Canucks.  Heavens  ! 
What  is  a  man  to  do?  I'll  toss  up  for  it. 
Heads,  the  Fenians." 

He  spun  the  coin  in  the  air,  and  caught  it. 

"  Heads  it  is  !  The  Fenians  are  my  victims. 
I'm  camping  on  their  trail,  anyhow.  Besides, 
it's  safer  than  following  the  Canadians,  even 
though  Stoliker  has  got  my  pass." 

Tired  as  he  was,  he  stepped  briskly  through 
the  forest.  The  scent  of  a  big  item  was  in  his 
nostrils,  and  it  stimulated  him  like  champagne. 
What  was  temporary  loss  of  sleep  compared  to 
the  joy  of  defeating  the  opposition  press  ? 

A  blind  man  might  have  followed  the  trail  of 
the  retreating  army.  They  had  thrown  away, 
as  they  passed  through  the  woods,  every  article 
that  impeded  their  progress.  Once  he  came  on 
a  man  lying  with  his  face  in  the  dead  leaves. 
He  turned  him  over. 

"  His  troubles  are  past,  poor  devil,"  said 
Yates,  as  he  pushed  on. 

"  Halt !  Throw  up  your  hands  !  "  came  a  cry 
from  in  front  of  him. 

Yates  saw  no  one,  but  he  promptly  threw  up 
his  hands,  being  an  adaptable  man. 

"What's  the  trouble.?"  he  shouted.  "I'm 
retreating,  too." 

"  Then  retreat  five  steps  farther.  I'll  count 
the  steps.     One." 

Yates  strode  one  step  forward,  and  then  saw 
that  a  man  behind  a  tree  was  covering  him 
with  a  gun.  The  next  step  revealed  a  second 
captor,  with  a  huge  upraised  hammer,  like  a 
Hercules     with    his     club.      Both    men    had 


r-  a 


218 


•ffn  tbe  /IblDst  of  Blarma, 


H\' 


1 1 


blackened  faces,  and  resembled  thoroughly  dis- 
reputable fiends  of  the  forest.  Seated  on  the 
ground,  in  a  semicircle,  were  half  a  dozen 
dejected  prisoners.  The  man  with  the  gun 
swore  fearfully,  but  his  comrade  with  the  ham- 
mer was  silent. 

"  Come,"  said  the  marksman,  "  you  blank 
scoundrel,  and  take  a  seat  with  your  fellow- 
scoundrels.  If  you  attempt  to  run,  blank  blank 
you,  I'll  fill  you  full  of  buckshot  !  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  run,  Sandy,"  cried 
Yates,  recognizing  him.  "  Why  should  I  ? 
I've  always  enjoyed  your  company,  and  Mac- 
donald's.  How  are  you,  Mac  ?  Is  this  a  little 
private  raid  of  your  own  ?  For  v/hich  side  are 
you  fighting.'*  And  I  say,  Sandy,  what's  the 
weight  of  that  old-fashioned  bar  of  iron  you 
have  in  your  hands  .^  I'd  like  to  decide  a  bet. 
Let  me  heft  it,  as  you  said  in  the  shop." 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?"  said  Sandy  in  a  dis- 
appointed tone,  lowering  his  gun.  "  I  thought 
we  had  raked  in  another  of  them.  The  old 
man  and  I  want  to  make  it  an  even  dozen." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  you'll  capture  any  more. 
I  saw  nobody  as  I  came  through  the  woods. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  this  crowd  ?  " 

"Brain  'em,"  said  Macdonald  laconically, 
speaking  for  the  first  time.  Then  he  added 
reluctantly  :  "  If  any  of  'em  tries  to  escape." 

The  prisoners  were  all  evidently  too  tired  and 
despondent  to  make  any  attempt  at  regaining 
their  liberty.  Sandy  winked  over  Macdonald's 
shoulder  at  Yates,  and  by  a  slight  side  move- 
ment of  his  head  he  seemed  to  indicate  that  he 
would  like  to  have  some  private  conversation 
with  the  newspaper  man. 

"  I'm  not  your  prisoner,  am  I  ?  "  asked  Yates. 

"  No,"  said  Macdonald.  "  You  may  go  if 
you  like,  but  not  in  the  direction  the  Fenians 
have  gone." 


Ifn  tbe  /RfDgt  ot  Blarms. 


219 


"  I  guess  I  won't  need  to  go  any  farther,  if 
you  will  give  me  permission  to  interview  your 
prisoners.  I  merely  want  to  get  some  points 
about  the  fight." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "  as 
long  as  you  don't  try  to  help  them.  If  you  do, 
I  warn  you  there  will  be  trouble." 

Yates  followed  Sandy  into  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  out  of  hearing  of  the  others,  leaving  Mac- 
donald  and  his  sledge-hammer  on  guard. 

When  at  a  safe  distance,  Sandy  stopped  and 
rested  his  arms  on  his  gun,  in  a  pathfinder 
attitude. 

"  Say,"  he  began  anxiously,  "  you  haven't  got 
some  powder  and  shot  on  you  by  any  chance  ?  " 

"  Not  an  ounce.  Haven't  you  any  ammuni- 
tion }  " 

"  No,  and  haven't  had  all  through  the  fight. 
You  see,  we  left  the  shop  in  such  a  hurry  we 
never  thought  about  powder  and  ball.  As 
soon  as  a  man  on  horseback  came  by  shouting 
that  there  was  a  fight  on,  the  old  man  he 
grabbed  his  sledge,  and  I  took  this  gun  that  had 
been  left  at  the  shop  for  repairs,  and  off  we 
started.  I'm  not  sure  that  it  would  shoot  if  I 
had  ammunition,  but  I'd  like  to  try.  I've  scared 
some  of  them  Fee-neens  nigh  to  death  with  it, 
but  I  was  always  afraid  one  of  them  would  pull 
a  real  gun  on  me,  and  then  I  don't  know  just 
what  I'd  'a' done." 

Sandy  sighed,  and  added,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  saw  his  mistake,  but  was  somewhat 
loath  to  acknowledge  it  :  "  Next  battle  there  is 
you  won't  find  me  in  it  with  a  lame  gun  and  no 
powder.  I'd  sooner  have  the  old  man's  sledge. 
It  don't  miss  fire."  His  eye  brightened  as  he 
thought  of  Macdonald.  "  Say,"  he  continued, 
with  a  jerk  of  his  head  back  over  his  shoulder, 
"  the  boss  is  on  the  warpath  in  great  style,  aint 
he.?" 


H      7; 


IM.; 


I 


''U< 


'h«. 


ki' 


It 


220 


•ffn  tbe  jnftl&0t  of  Blarms. 


"  He  is,"  said  Yates,  "  but,  for  that  matter, 
so  are  you.  You  can  swear  nearly  as  well  as 
Macdonald  himself.  When  did  you  take  to 
it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  you  see,"  said  Sandy  apologet- 
ically, "  it  don't  come  as  natural  to  me  as  chew- 
ing, but,  then,  somebody's  got  to  swear.  The 
old  man's  converted,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  hasn't  he  backslid  yet  ?  " 

"  No,  he  hasn't.  I  was  afraid  this  scrimmage 
was  going  to  do  for  him,  but  it  didn't ;  and 
now  I  think  that  if  somebody  near  by  does  a 
little  cussing, — not  that  anyone  can  cuss  like  the 
boss, — he'll  pull  through.  I  think  he'll  stick  this 
time.  You'd  ought  to  have  seen  him  w  ng 
into  them  d — d  Fee-neens,  swinging  his  sledge, 
and  singing  '  Onward,  Christian  soldiers.' 
Then,  with  me  to  chip  in  a  cuss  word  now  and 
again  when  things  got  hot,  he  pulled  through 
the  day  without  ripping  an  oath.  I  tell  you,  it 
was  a  sight.  He  bowled  'em  over  like  nine- 
pins.    You  ought  to  'a'  been  there." 

"  Yes,"  said  Yates  regretfully.  "  I  missed  it, 
all  on  account  of  that  accursed  Stoliker.  Well, 
there's  no  use  crying  over  spilled  milk,  but  I'll 
tell  you  one  thing,  Sandy  :  although  I  have  no 
ammunition,  I'll  let  you  know  what  I  have  got. 
I  have,  in  my  pocket,  one  of  the  best  plugs  of 
tobacco  that  you  ever  put  your  teeth  into." 

Sandy's  eyes  glittered.     "  Bless 
all  he   could  say,  as  he  bit  off  a  corner  of  the 
offered  plug. 

"  You  see,  Sandy,  there  are  compensations  in 
this  life,  after  all ;  I  thought  you  were  out." 

"  I  haven't  had  a  bite  all  day.  That's  the 
trouble  with  leaving  in  a  hurry." 

"  Well,  you  may  keep  that  plug,  with  my 
regards.  Now,  I  want  to  get  back  and  inter- 
view those  fellows.  There's  no  time  to  be 
lost." 


you  !  "  was 


irn  tbe  ^(50t  of  Blanns. 


221 


at  matter, 

as  well  as 

)u  take  to 

'  apologet- 
le  as  chew- 
vear.     The 


scrimmage 
didn't ;  and 
•  by  does  a 
;uss  like  the 
:'ll  stick  this 
him  w      ng 
y  his  sledge, 
1     soldiers.' 
)rd  now  and 
led  through 
I  tell  you,  it 
er  like  nine- 

I  missed  it, 
liker.     Well, 

ilk,  but  I'll 
I  have  no 
.  I  have  got. 
est  plugs  of 

h  into." 

you!"  was 
lorner  of  the 

pensations  in 
^ere  out." 
That's  the 

ug,  with  my 
:k  and  inter- 
time   to  be 


When  they  reached  the  group,  Macdonald 
said  : 

"  Here's  a  man  says  he  knows  you,  Mr.  Yates. 
He  claims  he  is  a  reporter,  and  that  you  will 
vouch  for  him," 

Yates  strode  forward,  and  looked  anxiously 
at  the  prisoners,  hoping,  yet  fearing,  to  find  one 
of  his  own  men  there.  He  was  a  selfish  man, 
and  wanted  the  glory  of  the  day  to  be  all  his 
own.  He  soon  recognized  one  of  the  prisoners 
as  Jimmy  Hawkins  of  the  staff  of  a  rival  daily, 
the  New  York  Blade.  This  was  even  worse 
than  he  had  anticipated. 

"  Hello,  Jimmy  !  "  '  e  said,  "  how  did  you  get 
here  }  " 

"  I  was  raked  in  by  that  adjective  fool  with 
the  unwashed  face." 

"  Whose  a — fool  ? "  cried  Macdonald  in 
wrath,  and  grasping  his  hammer.  He  boggled 
slightly  as  he  came  to  the  "  adjective,"  but  got 
over  it  safely.  It  was  evidently  a  close  call, 
but  Sandy  sprang  to  the  rescue,  and  cursed 
Hawkins  until  even  the  prisoners  turned  pale 
at  the  torrent  of  profanity.  Macdonald  looked 
with  sad  approbation  at  his  pupil,  not  knowing 
that  he  was  under  the  stimulus  of  newly  acquired 
tobacco,  wondering  how  he  had  attained  such 
proficiency  in  malediction  ;  for,  like  all  true 
artists,  he  was  quite  unconscious  of  his  own 
merit  in  that  direction. 

"  Tell  this  hammer  wielder  that  I'm  no  anvil. 
Tell  him  that  I'm  a  newspaper  man,  and  didn't 
come  here  to  fight.  He  says  that  if  you 
guarantee  that  I'm  no  Fenian  he'll  let  me  go." 

Yates  sat  down  on  a  fallen  log,  with  a  frown 
on  his  brow.  He  liked  to  do  a  favor  to  a  fellow- 
creature  when  the  act  did  not  inconvenience 
himself,  but  he  never  forgot  the  fact  that  busi- 
ness was  business. 

"  I  can't  conscientiously  tell  him  that,  Jimmy," 


if 


;  f  f- 


222 


lln  tbe  /lB(&0t  ot  Blarms. 


^      ! 


said  Yates  soothingly.  "  How  am  I  to  know 
you  are  not  a  Fenian  ?  " 

"  Bosh  !  "  cried  Hawkins  angrily.  "  Con- 
scientiously ?  A  lot  you  think  of  conscience 
when  there  is  an  item  to  be  had." 

"  We  none  of  us  live  up  to  our  better  nature, 
Jimmy,"  continued  Yates  feelingly.  "  We  can 
but  do  our  best,  whicli  is  not  much.  For 
reasons  that  you  might  fail  to  understand,  I  do 
not  wish  to  run  the  risk  of  telling  a  lie.  You 
appreciate  my  hesitation,  don't  you,  Mr.  Mac- 
donald  ?  You  would  not  advise  me  to  assert  a 
thing  I  was  not  sure  of,  would  you  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  said  the  blacksmith  ear- 
nestly. 

"  You  want  to  keep  me  here  because  you 
are  afraid  of  me,"  cried  the  indignant  Blade 
man.     "  You  know  very  well  Fm  not  a  Fenian." 

"  Excuse  me,  Jimmy,  but  I  know  nothing  of 
the  kind.  I  even  suspect  myself  of  Fenian 
leanings.     How,  then,  can  I  be  sure  of  you  }  " 

"  What's  your  game  ?  "  asked  Hawkins  more 
calmly,  for  he  realized  that  he  himself  wculd 
not  be  slow  to  take  advantage  of  a  rival's 
dilemma. 

"  My  game  is  to  get  a  neat  little  account  of 
this  historical  episode  sent  over  the  wires  to  the 
Argus.  You  see,  Jimmy,  this  is  my  busy  day. 
When  the  task  is  over,  I  will  devote  myself  to 
your  service,  and  will  save  you  from  being 
hanged,  if  I  can ;  although  I  shall  do  so  with- 
out prejudice,  as  the  lawyers  say,  for  I  have 
always  held  that  that  will  be  the  ultimate  end 
of  all  the  Blade  staff." 

"  Look  here,  Yates;  play  fair.  Don't  run  in 
any  conscientious  guff  on  a  prisoner.  You  see, 
I  have  known  you  these  many  years." 

"  Yes,  and  little  have  you  profited  by  a  noble 
example.  It  is  your  knowledge  of  me  that 
makes  me  wonder  at  your  expecting  me  to  let 


f*  m 


if\ 


ft?   i 


'•.<■.. 


•ffn  tbc  Ablest  ot  '5llarm0. 


223 


to  know 

"  Con- 
conscience 

ter  nature, 
•«  We  can 
.uch.  7ov 
•stand,  1  do 
alie.  Vou 
1,  Mr.  Mac- 
P  to  assert  a 

?" 

ksmith  ear- 

because  you 

gnant  Bladf^ 
^ot  a  Fenian, 
w  nothing  ot 
If   of   Fenian 
ire  of  you  t 
tlawkins  more 
himself  wcu  d 
of  a  rivals 

tie  account  of 
he  wires  to  the 
my  busy  day. 
vote  myselt  to 
'lu  from  bemg 
A\  do  so  with- 
.ay,  for  1  bave 
le  ultimate  end 

Don't  run  in 

)ner.^^  Vou  see, 

Jears."  ,  , 

ited  by  a  noble 

Ige  of    me  that 

Icting  me  to  let 


you  out  of  your  hole  without  due  considera- 
tion." 

"  Are  you  willing  to  make  a  bargain  ?  " 

"  Always — when  the  balance  of  trade  is  on 
my  side." 

"Well,  if  you  give  me  a  fair  start,  I'll  give 
you  some  exclusive  information  that  you  can't 
get  otherwise." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  born  yesterday,  Dick." 

"  That  is  interesting  information,  Jimmy,  but 
I  knew  it  before.  Haven't  you  something  more 
attractive  to  offer?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have.  I  have  the  whole  account  of 
the  expedition  and  the  fight  written  out,  all 
ready  to  send,  if  I  could  get  my  clutches  on  a 
telegraph  wire.  I'll  hand  it  over  to  you,  and 
allow  you  to  read  it,  if  you  will  get  me  out  of 
this  hole,  as  you  call  it.  I'll  give  you  permis- 
sion to  use  the  information  in  any  way  you 
choose,  if  you  will  extricate  me,  and  all  I 
ask  is  a  fair  start  in  the  race  for  a  telegraph 
office." 

Yates  pondered  over  the  proposition  for  some 
moments. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Jimmy,"  he  finally 
said.  "  I'll  buy  that  account  from  you,  and 
give  you  more  money  than  the  Blade  will. 
And  when  I  get  back  to  New  York  I'll  place 
you  on  the  staff  of  the  Argus  at  a  higher  salary 
than  the  Blade  gives  you — taking  your  own 
word  for  the  amount." 

"  What !  And  leave  my  paper  in  the  lurch  ? 
Not  likely." 

"  Your  paper  is  going  to  be  left  in  the  lurch, 
anyhow." 

"  Perhaps.  But  it  won't  be  sold  by  me.  I'll 
burn  my  copy  before  I  will  let  you  have  a  glimpse 
of  it.  That  don't  need  to  interfere  with  your 
making  me  an  offer  of  a  better  position  when 


224 


■ffn  tbc  ^IDst  ot  Blarms. 


.'  r 


u    ■ 


1  . 


II 


ill' '  I  - 


I   .i 


'  / 


1 1 


we  ^et  back  to  New  York  ;  but  wliile  my  paper 
depends  on  ine,  I  won't  go  back  on  it." 

"  Just  as  you  please,  Jimmy.  Perhaps  I 
would  do  the  same  myself.  I  always  was  weak 
where  the  interests  of  the  Argus  were  concerned. 
You  haven't  any  blank  paper  you  could  lend  me, 
Jimmy?" 

"  I  have,  but  I  won't  lend  it." 

Yates  took  out  his  pencil,  and  pulled  down 
his  cuff. 

"  Now,  Mac,"  he  said,  "tell  me  all  you  saw 
of  this  fight." 

The  blacksmith  talked,  and  Yates  listened, 
puttin,;  now  and  then  a  mark  on  his  cuff. 
Sandy  spoke  occasionally,  but  it  was  mostly  to 
tell  of  sledge-hamn^er  feats  or  to  corroborate 
something  the  boss  said.  One  after  another 
Yates  interviewed  the  prisoners,  and  gathered 
together  all  the  materials  for  that  excellent  full- 
page  account  "  by  an  eyewitness  "  that  after- 
ward appeared  in  the  colunms  of  the  Argus. 
He  had  a  wonderful  memory,  and  simply  jotted 
down  figures  with  which  he  did  not  care  to 
burden  his  mind.  Hawkins  laughed  derisively 
now  and  then  at  the  facts  they  were  giving 
Yates,  but  the  Argus  man  said  nothing,  merely 
setting  down  in  shorthand  some  notes  of  the 
information  Hawkins  sneered  at,  which  Yates 
considered  was  more  than  likely  accurate  and 
important.  When  he  had  got  all  he  wanted,  he 
rose. 

"  Shall  I  send  you  help,  Mac  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  said  the  smith;  "I  think  I'll  take 
these  fellows  to  the  shop,  and  hold  them  there 
till  called  f^r.  You  can't  vouch  for  Hawkins, 
then,  Mr.  Yates  ?  " 

"  Good  Heavens,  no  !  I  look  on  him  as  the 
most  dangerous  of  the  lot.  These  half-educated 
criminals,  who  have  no  conscientious  scruples, 
always  seem  to  me  a  greater  menace  to  society 


W  ■■- 


f n  tbc  /iRfOat  of  Blarme. 


225 


jlled  down 


than  their  more  ignorant  co-conspirators.  Well, 
goo(l-by,  Jimmy.  I  think  you'll  enjoy  hfe  clown 
at  Mac's  shop.  It's  the  best  place  I've  struck 
since  I've  been  in  the  district.  Give  my  love 
to  all  the  boys,  when  they  come  to  gaze  at  you. 
I'll  make  careful  inquiries  into  your  opinions, 
and  as  soon  as  I  am  convinced  that  you  can  be 
set  free  with  safety  to  the  community  I'll  drop 
in  on  you  and  do  all  I  can.  Meanwhile,  so 
long." 

Yates'  or  desire  now  was  to  reach  a  tele- 
graph office,  uul  write  his  article  as  it  wns  being 
clicked  off  on  the  machine.  He  had  his  fears 
about  the  speed  of  a  country  operator,  but  he 
dared  not  risk  trying  to  get  through  to  Buffalo 
in  the  then  excited  state  of  the  country.  He 
quickly  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  the  Bartlett 
place,  borrow  a  horse,  if  the  Fenians  had  not 
permanently  made  off  with  them  all,  and  iide 
as  rapidly  as  he  could  for  the  nearest  telegraph 
'^<Tice.  He  soon  reached  the  ecige  of  the 
woods,  and  made  his  wav  across  the  fields  to 
the  house.  He  found  young  Bartlett  at  the 
barn. 

"  Any  news  oi  the  horses  yet  ?  "  was  the  first 
question  he  asked. 

"  No,"  said  ooung  Bartlett  gloomily;  "guess 
they've  rode  away  with  them." 

"  Well,  I  must  get  a  horse  from  somewhere 
to  ride  to  the  telegraph  office.  Where  is  the 
likeliest  place  to  find  one  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where  you  can  get  one,  unless 
you  steal  the  telegraph  boy's  nag  ;  it's  in  the 
stable  now,  having  a  feed." 

"  What  telegraph  boy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  didn't  you  see  him  ?  He  went  out  to 
the  tent  to  look  for  you,  and  I  thought  he  had 
found  you." 

"No,  I  haven't  been  at  the  tent  for  ever  so 
long.     Perhaps  he  has  some  news  for  me.     I'm 


IgB.WMUfeW 


226 


Ifn  tbe  ISbibst  ot  Blarntd. 


iii 


Im  I  I  ; 


I'; 


f     V 


going  to  the  house  to  write,  so  send  him  in  as 
soon  as  he  gets  back.  Be  sure  you  don't  let 
him  get  away  before  I  see  him." 

"  I'll  lock  the  stable,"  said  young  Bartlett, 
"  and  then  he  won't  get  the  horse,  at  any 
rate." 

Yates  found  Kitty  in  the  kitchen,  and  he 
looked  so  flurried  that  the  girl  cried  anxiously  : 

"  Are  they  after  you  again,  Mr.  Yates?  " 

**  No,  Kitty  ;  I'm  after  them.  Say,  I  want 
all  the  blank  paper  you  have  in  the  house. 
Anything  will  do,  so  long  as  it  will  hold  a  lead- 
pencil  mark." 

"  A  copy  book — such  as  the  children  use  in 
school  ?  " 

"  Just  the  thing." 

In  less  than  a  minute  the  energetic  girl  had 
all  the  materials  he  required  ready  for  him  in 
the  front  room.  Yates  threw  off  his  coat,  and 
went  to  work  as  if  he  were  in  his  own  den  in 
the  Argtis  building. 

"  This  is  a of  a  vacation,"  he  muttered 

to  himself,  as  he  drove  his  jiencil  at  lightning 
speed  over  the  surface  of  the  paper.  He  took 
no  note  of  the  time  until  he  had  finished  ;  then 
he  roused  himself  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  What  in  thunder  has  become  of  that  tele- 
graph boy  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Well,  it  doesn't  mat- 
ter ;  I'll  take  the  horse  without  his  permission." 

He  gathered  up  his  sheets,  and  rushed  for 
the  kitchen.  He  was  somewhat  surprised  to 
see  '.he  boy  sitting  there,  gorging  himself  with 
the  good  things  which  that  kitchen  always 
afforded. 

*'  Hello,  youngster  !  how  long  have  you  been 
here  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  let  him  go  in  to  disturb  you 
while  you  were  writing,"  said  Kitty,  the  boy's 
mouth  being  too  full  to  permit  of  a  reply. 

"  Ah,  that  was  right.     Now,  sonny,  gulp  that 


fn  tbe  /iblDet  of  Blatms. 


227 


en  use  in 


down  and  come  in  here ;  I  want  to  talk  to  you 
for  a  minute." 

The  boy  followed  him  into  the  front  room. 

"  Well,  my  son,  I  want  to  borrow  your  horse 
for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"  You  can't  have  it,"  said  the  boy  promptly. 

"Can't  have  it?  I  must  have  it.  Why,  I'll 
take  it.  You  don't  imagine  you  can  stop  me, 
do  you  ?  " 

The  boy  drew  himself  up,  and  folded  his  arms 
across  his  breast. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  the  horse,  Mr. 
Yates  ?  "  he  asked, 

"  I  want  to  get  to  the  nearest  telegraph  office. 
I'll  pay  you  well  for  it." 

"  And  what  am  I  here  for  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  eat,  of  course.  They'll  feed  you 
high  while  you  wait." 

"  Canadian  telegraph  office  ?  " 

"Certainly." 

"  It's  no  good,  Mr.  Yates.  Them  Canadians 
couldn't  telegraph  all  you've  written  in  two 
weeks.  I  know  'em,"  said  the  boy  with  infinite 
scorn.  "  Besides,  the  Government  has  got  hold 
of  all  the  wires,  and  you  can't  get  a  private 
message  through  till  it  gets  over  its  fright." 

"  By  George  !  "  cried  Yates,  taken  aback,  "  I 
hadn't  thought  of  that.     Are  you  sure,  boy?  " 

"  Dead  certain." 

"  Then  what's  to  be  done  ?  I  must  get 
through  to  Fuffalo." 

"  You  can't.  United  States  troops  won't  let 
you.  They're  stopping  everybody  —  except 
me,"  he  added,  drawing  himself  up,  as  if  he 
were  the  one  individual  who  stood  in  with  the 
United  States  Government. 

"  Can  you  get  this  dispatch  through  ?  " 

"  You  bet !  That's  why  I  came  back.  I  knew, 
as  soon  as  I  looked  at  you,  that  you  would  write 
two  or  three  columns  of  telegraph  ;   and  your 


m' 

H|^('^ 

«||!i 

HIm^- 

ffiff] 

lU  h' 


:U 


It       ■ 


228 


fit  tbe  ^ib0t  of  Blarme, 


paper  said  '  Spare  no  expense,'  you  remember. 
So  says  I  to  myself :  '  I'll  help  Mr.  Yates  to  spare 
no  expense.  I'll  get  fifty  dollars  from  that 
young  man,  seeing  I'm  the  only  person  who 
can  get  across  in  time.'  " 

"  You  were  mighty  sure  of  it,  weren't  you  ?  " 

*'  You  just  bet  I  was.  Now,  the  horse  is  fed 
and  ready,  I'm  fed  and  ready,  and  we're 
losing  valuable  time  waiting  for  that  fifty 
dollars.  ' 

"  Suppose  you  meet  another  newspaper  man 
who  wants  to  get  his  dispatch  through  to 
another  paper,  what  will  you  do .''  " 

"  Charge  him  the  Same  as  I  do  you.  If  I 
meet  two  other  newspaper  men,  that  will  be 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars ;  but  if  you  want 
to  make  sure  that  I  won't  meet  any  more  news- 
paper men,  let  us  call  it  one  hundred  dollars, 
and  I'll  take  the  risk  of  the  odd  fifty  for  the 
ready  cash  ;  then  if  I  meet  a  dozen  newspaper 
men,  I'll  tell  them  I'm  a  telegraph  boy  on  a 
vacation." 

"Quite  so.  I  think  you  will  be  able  to  take 
care  of  yourself  in  a  cold  and  callous  world. 
Now,  look  here,  young  man  ;  I'll  trust  you  if 
you'll  trust  me.  I'm  not  a  traveling  mint,  you 
know.  Besides,  I  pay  by  results.  If  you  don't 
get  this  dispatch  through,  you  don't  get  any- 
thing. I'll  give  you  an  order  for  a  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  as  soon  as  I  get  to  Buffalo  I'll  pay  you 
the  cash.  I'll  have  to  draw  on  the  Argt(s 
when  I  get  to  Buffalo  ;  if  my  article  has  ap- 
peared, you  get  your  cash  ;  if  it  hasn't,  you're 
out.     See  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  see.    It  won't  do,  Mr.  Yates." 

"  Why  won't  it  do  ?  " 

"  Because  I  say  it  won't.  This  is  a  cash 
transaction.  Money  down,  or  you  don't  get  the 
goods.  I'll  get  it  through  all  right,  but  if  I  just 
miss,  I'm  not  going  to  lose  the  money." 


i  1-  i 


•ffn  the  ^iD5t  of  Blarm5. 


229 


"  Very  well,  I'll  take  it  to  the  Canadian  tele- 
graph office." 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Yates.  I'm  disappointed  in 
you.  I  thought  you  were  some  good.  You 
aint  got  no  sense,  but  I  wish  you  luck.  When 
I  was  at  your  tent,  there  was  a  man  with  a 
hammer  taking  a  lot  of  men  out  of  the  woods. 
When  one  of  them  sees  my  uniform,  he  sings 
out  he'd  give  me  twenty-five  dollars  to  take  his 
stuff.  I  said  I'd  see  him  later,  and  I  will. 
Good-by,  Mr.  Yates." 

"  Hold  on,  there  !  You're  a  young  villain. 
You'll  end  in  state's  prison  yet,  but  here's  your 
money.     Now,  you  ride  like  a  house  a-tire." 

After  watching  the  departing  boy  until  he 
was  out  of  sight  Yates,  with  a  feeling  of  relief, 
started  back  to  the  tent.  He  was  worried 
about  the  interview  the  boy  had  had  with  Haw- 
kins, and  he  wondered,  now  that  it  was  too  late, 
whether,  after  all,  he  had  not  Hawkins'  manu- 
script in  his  pocket.  He  wished  he  had  searched 
him.  That  trouble,  however,  did  not  prevent 
him  from  sleeping  like  the  dead  the  moment 
he  lay  down  in  the  tent. 


t 


1  ^ 


!/; 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


n 


T     ii 


I*       f 


The  result  of  the  struggle  was  similar  in 
effect  to  an  American  railway  accident  of  the 
first  class.  One  officer  and  five  privates  were 
killed  on  the  Canadian  side,  one  man  was  miss- 
ing, and  many  were  wounded.  The  number  of 
the  Fenians  killed  will  probably  never  be  known. 
Several  were  buried  on  the  field  of  battle,  others 
were  taken  back  by  O'Neill's  brigade  when  they 
retreated. 

Although  the  engagement  ended  as  Yates 
had  predicted,  yet  he  was  wrong  in  his  estimate 
of  the  Canadians.  Volunteers  are  invariably 
underrated  by  men  of  experience  in  military 
matters.  The  boys  fought  well,  even  when  they 
saw  their  ensign  fall  dead  before  them.  If  the 
affair  had  been  left  entirely  in  their  hands,  the 
result  might  have  been  different — as  was  shown 
afterward,  when  the  volunteers,  unimpeded  by 
regulars,  quickly  put  down  a  much  more  for- 
midable rising  in  the  Northwest.  But  in  the 
present  case  they  were  hampered  by  their 
dependence  on  the  British  troops,  whose  com- 
mander moved  them  with  all  the  ponderous 
slowness  of  real  war,  and  approached  O'Neill 
as  if  he  had  been  approaching  Napoleon.  He 
thus  managed  to  get  in  a  day  after  the  fair  on 
every  occasion,  being  too  late  for  the  fight  at 
Ridgeway,  and  too  late  to  capture  any  con- 
sider?tble  number  of  the  flying  Fenians  at  Fort 
Erie.  The  campaign,  on  the  Canadian  side, 
was  magnificently  planned  and  wretchedly 
carried  out.     The  volunteers  and  regulars  were 

230 


•ffn  tbe  flbiOat  of  Blacms. 


231 


to  meet  at  a  point  close  to  where  the  fight  took 
place,  but  the  British  commander  delayed  two 
hours  in  starting,  which  fact  the  Canadian 
colonel  did  not  learn  until  too  late.  These 
blunders  culminated  in  a  ghastly  mistake  on 
the  field.  The  Canadian  colonel  ordered  his 
men  to  charge  across  an  open  field,  and  attack 
the  Fenian  force  in  the  woods — a  brilliant  but 
foolish  move.  To  the  command  the  volunteers 
gallantly  responded,  but  against  stupidity  the 
gods  are  powerless.  In  the  field  they  were 
appalled  to  hear  the  order  given  to  form  square 
and  receive  cavalry.  Even  the  schoolboys 
knew  the  Fenians  could  have  no  cavalry. 

Having  formed  their  square,  the  Canadians 
found  tliemselves  tiie  helpless  targets  of  the 
Fenians  in  the  woods.  If  O'Neill's  forces  had 
shot  witli  reasonable  precision,  they  must  have 
cut  the  volunteers  to  pieces.  The  latter  were 
victorious,  if  they  had  only  known  it ;  but,  in 
this  hopeless  square,  panic  seized  them,  and  it 
was  every  man  for  himself  ;  at  the  same  time, 
the  Fenians  were  also  retreating  as  fast  as  they 
could.  This  farce  is  known  as  the  battle  of 
Ridgeway,  and  would  have  been  comical  had  it 
not  been  that  death  hovered  over  it.  The 
comedy,  without  the  tragedy,  was  enacted  a 
day  or  two  before  at  a  bloodless  skirmish  which 
took  place  near  a  hamlet  called  Waterloo,  which 
affray  is  dignified  in  Canadian  annals  as  the 
second  battle  of  that  name. 

When  the  Canadian  forces  retreated,  Ren- 
mark,  who  had  watched  the  contest  with 
all  the  helpless  anxiety  of  a  noncombatant, 
sharing  the  danger,  but  having  no  influence 
upon  the  result,  followed  them,  making  a  wide 
detour  to  avoid  the  chance  shots  which  were 
still  flying.  He  expected  to  come  up  with  the 
volunteers  on  the  road,  lait  wns  not  succ  .sful. 
Through   various   miscalculations    he   did   not 


( ' 


, 


232 


irn  tbc  m^6t  ot  Blarm0. 


«  I 


w 


:\  ' 


succeed  in  finding  them  until  toward  evening. 
At  first  they  told  him  that  young  Howard  was 
with  the  company,  and  unhurt,  but  further 
inquiry  soon  disclosed  the  fact  that  he  had  not 
been  seen  since  the  fight.  He  was  not  among 
those  who  were  killed  or  wounded,  and  it  was 
nightfall  before  Renmark  realized  that  opposite 
his  name  on  the  roll  would  be  placed  the 
ominous  word  "missing."  Renmark  remem- 
bered that  the  boy  had  said  he  would  visit  his 
home  if  he  got  leave  ;  but  no  leave  had  been 
asked  for.  At  last  Renmark  was  convinced 
that  young  Howard  was  either  badly  wounded 
or  dead.  The  possibility  of  his  desertion  the 
professor  did  not  consider  for  a  moment, 
although  he  admitted  to  himself  that  it  was 
hard  to  tell  what  panic  of  fear  might  come 
over  a  boy  who,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
found  bullets  flying  about  his  ears. 

With  a  heavy  heart  Renmark  turned  back 
and  made  his  way  to  the  fatal  field.  He  found 
nothing  on  the  Canadian  side.  Going  over  to 
the  woods,  he  came  across  several  bodies  lying 
where  they  fell ;  but  they  were  all  those  of 
strangers.  Even  in  the  darkness  he  would 
have  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  volun- 
teer uniform  which  he  knew  so  well.  He 
walked  down  to  the  Howard  homestead,  hoping, 
yet  fearing,  to  hear  the  boy's  voice — the  voice 
of  a  deserter.  Everything  was  silent  about  the 
house,  although  a  light  shone  through  an  upper 
window,  and  also  through  one  below.  He 
paused  at  the  gate,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 
It  was  evident  the  boy  was  not  here,  yet 
how  to  find  the  father  or  brother,  without 
alarming  Margaret  or  her  mother,  puzzled  him. 
As  he  stood  there  the  door  opened,  and  he 
recognized  Mrs.  Bartlett  and  Margaret  standing 
in  the  light.  He  moved  away  from  the  gate, 
and  heard  the  older  woman  say  : 


•ffn  tbe  ^iD0t  of  Blacms. 


233 


"  Oh,  she  will  be  all  right  in  the  morning, 
now  that  she  has  fallen  into  a  nice  sleep.  I 
wouldn't  disturb  her  to-night,  if  I  were  you.  It 
is  nothing  but  nervousness  and  fright  at  that 
horrible  firing.  It's  all  over  now,  thank  God. 
Good-night,  Margaret." 

The  good  woman  came  through  the  gate,  and 
then  ran,  with  all  the  speed  of  sixteen,  toward 
her  own  home.  Margaret  stood  in  the  door- 
way, listening  to  the  retreating  footsteps.  She 
was  pale  and  anxious,  but  Renmark  thought  he 
had  never  seen  anyone  so  lovely  ;  and  he  was 
startled  to  find  that  he  had  a  most  un-professor- 
like  longing  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  com- 
fort her.  Instead  of  bringing  her  consolation, 
he  feared  it  would  be  his  fate  to  add  to  her 
anxiety ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  saw  she  was 
about  to  close  the  door  that  he  found  courage 
to  speak. 

"  Margaret,"  he  said. 

The  girl  had  never  heard  her  name  pro- 
nounced in  that  tone  before,  and  the  cadence 
of  it  went  direct  to  her  heart,  frightening  her 
with  an  unknown  joy.  She  seemed  unable  to 
move  or  respond,  and  stood  there,  with  wide 
eyes  and  suspended  breath,  gazing  into  the 
darkness.  Renmark  stepped  into  the  light,  and 
she  saw  his  face  was  haggard  with  fatigue  and 
anxiety. 

"  Margaret,"  he  said  again,  "  I  want  to  speak 
with  you  a  moment.     Where  is  your  brother?  " 

"  He  has  gone  with  Mr.  Bartlett  to  see  if  he 
can  find  the  horses.  There  is  something 
wrong,"  she  continued,  stepping  down  beside 
him.     "  I  can  see  it  in  your  face.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Is  your  father  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  he  is  worried  about  mother.  Tell 
me  what  it  is.     It  is  better  to  tell  me." 

Renmark  hesitated. 

"  Don't  keep  me  in  suspense  like  this,"  cried 


234 


•ffn  the  /iRlDat  ot  Blarma, 


iii  y ; 


the  girl  in  a  low  but  intense  voice.  "  You  have 
said  too  much  or  too  little.  Has  anything  hap- 
pened to  Henry  ?  " 

"  No.  It  is  about  Arthur  I  wanted  to  speak. 
You  will  not  be  alarmed  ?  " 

"  I  am  alarmed.  Tell  me  quickly."  And 
the  girl  in  her  excitement  laid  her  hands  im- 
ploringly on  his. 

"  Arthur  joined  the  volunteers  in  Toronto 
some  time  ago.     Did  you  know  that .''  " 

"  He  never  told  me.  I  understand — I  think 
so,  but  I  hope  not.  He  was  in  the  battle  to- 
day.    Is  he— has  he  been — hurt  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  I'm  afraid  so,"  said  Ren- 
mark  hurriedly,  now  that  the  truth  had  to  come 
out ;  he  realized,  by  the  nervous  tightening  of 
the  girl's  unconscious  grasp,  how  clumsily  he 
was  telling  it.  "  He  was  with  the  volunteers 
this  morning.  He  is  not  with  them  now. 
They  don't  know  where  he  is.  No  one  saw 
him  hurt,  but  it  is  feared  he  was,  and  that  he 
has  been  left  behind.  I  have  been  all  over  the 
ground." 

"  Yes,  yes  ?  " 

"  But  I  could  not  find  him.  I  came  here 
hoping  to  find  him." 

"Take  me  to  where  the  volunteers  were," 
she  sobbed.  "  I  know  what  *^^.s  happened. 
Come  quickly." 

"  Will  you  not  put  something  on  your  head  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  Come  at  once."  Then,  pausing, 
she  said  :  "  Shall  we  need  a  lantern  ?  " 

"  No ;  it  is  light  enough  when  we  get  out 
from  the  shadow  of  the  house." 

Margaret  ran  along  the  road  so  swiftly  that 
Renmark  had  some  trouble  in  keeping  pace 
with  her.  She  turned  at  the  side  road,  and 
sped  up  the  gentle  ascent  to  the  spot  where  the 
volunteers  had  crossed  it. 

"  Here  is  the  place,"  said  Renmark. 


fn  tbc  /IRt&6t  of  Blarma. 


935 


"He  could  not  have  been  hit  in  the  field," 
she  cried  breathlessly,  "  for  then  he  might  have 
reached  the  house  at  the  corner  without  climb- 
ing a  fence.  If  he  was  badly  hurt,  he  would 
have  been  here.     Did  you  search  this  field  ?  "    *- 

"  Every  bit  of  it.     He  is  not  here." 

"  Then  it  must  have  happened  after  he 
crossed  the  road  and  the  second  fence.  Did 
you  see  the  battle  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  the  Fenians  cross  the  field  after  the 
volunteers  ?  " 

"  No ;  they  did  not  leave  the  woods." 

"  Then,  if  he  was  struck,  it  could  not  have 
been  far  from  the  other  side  of  the  second 
fence.  He  would  be  the  last  to  retreat ;  and 
that  is  why  the  others  did  not  see  him,"  said 
the  girl,  with  confident  pride  in  her  brother's 
courage. 

They  crossed  the  first  fence,  the  road,  and 
the  second  fence,  the  girl  walking  ahead  for  a 
few  paces.  She  stoj)ped,  and  leaned  for  a  mo- 
ment against  a  tree.  "  It  must  have  been 
about  here,"  she  said  in  a  voice  hardly  audible, 
"  Have  you  searched  on  this  side  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  half  a  mile  farther  into  the  fields 
and  woods." 

"  No,  no,  not  there ;  but  down  along  the 
fence.  He  knew  every  inch  of  this  ground.  If 
he  were  wounded  here,  he  would  at  once  try 
to  reach  our  house.  Search  down  along  the 
fence.     I — I  cannot  go." 

Renmark  walked  along  the  fence,  peering 
into  the  dark  corners  made  by  the  zigzag  of  the 
rails;  and  he  knew,  without  looking  back,  that 
Margaret,  with  feminine  inconsistency,  was  fol- 
lowing him.  Suddenly  she  darted  past  him, 
and  flung  herself  down  in  the  long  grass, 
wailing  out  a  cry  that  cut  Renmark  like  a 
knife. 


236 


•ffn  tbe  m^0t  of  Blarma. 


11'  > 


The  boy  lay  with  his  face  in  the  grass,  and 
his  outstretched  hand  grasping  the  lower  rail 
of  the  fence.  He  had  dragged  himself  this  far, 
and  reached  an  insurmountable  obstacle. 
''  Renmark  drew  the  weeping  girl  gently  away, 
and  rapidly  ran  his  hand  over  the  prostrate  lad. 
He  quickly  opened  his  tunic,  and  a  thrill  of  joy 
passed  over  him  as  he  felt  the  faint  beating  of 
the  heart." 

"  He  is  alive  !  "  he  cried.  "  He  will  get  well, 
Margaret."  A  statement  somewhat  premature 
to  make  on  so  hasty  an  examination. 

He  rose,  expecting  a  look  of  gratitude  from 
the  girl  he  loved.  He  was  amazed  to  see  her 
eyes  almost  luminous  in  the  darkness,  blazing 
with  wrath. 

"  When  did  you  know  he  was  with  the  volun- 
teers ? " 

"  This  morning — early,"  said  the  professor, 
taken  aback. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  " 

"  He  asked  me  not  to  do  so." 

"  He  is  a  mere  toy.  You  are  a  man,  and 
ought  to  have  a  man's  sense.  You  had  no  right 
to  mind  what  a  boy  said.  It  was  my  right  to 
know,  and  your  duty  to  tell  me.  Through 
your  negligence  and  stupidity  my  brother  has 
lain  here  all  day — perhaps  dying,"  she  added 
with  a  break  in  her  angry  voice. 

"  If  you  had  known — I  didn't  know  anything 
was  wrong  until  I  saw  the  volunteers.  1  have 
not  lost  a  moment  since." 

"  I  should  have  known  he  was  missing,  with- 
out going  to  the  volunteers." 

Renmark  was  so  amazed  at  the  unjust  ac- 
cusation, from  a  girl  whom  he  had  made  the 
mistake  of  believing  to  be  without  a  temper  of 
her  own,  that  he  knew  not  what  to  say.  He 
was,  however,  to  have  one  more  example  of  in- 
consistency. 


Hn  tbc  AbtD0t  ot  Blacm0. 


237 


'•  Why  do  you  stand  tliere  doing  nothing,  now 
that  I  have  found  him  ?  "  she  demanded. 

It  was  on  his  tongue  to  say :  "  I  stand  here 
because  you  stand  there  unjustly  quarrehng 
with  me,"  but  he  did  not  say  it.  Renmark  was 
not  a  ready  man,  yet  he  did,  for  once,  the  right 
thing. 

"  Margaret,"  he  said  sternly,  "  throw  down 
that  fence." 

This  curt  command,  delivered  in  his  most 
schoolmastery  manner,  was  instantly  obeyed. 
Such  a  task  may  seem  a  formidable  one  to  set 
to  a  young  woman,  but  it  is  a  feat  easily  accom- 
plished in  some  parts  of  America.  A  rail  fence 
lends  itself  readily  to  demolition.  Margaret 
tossed  a  rail  to  the  right,  one  to  the  left,  and 
one  to  the  right  again,  until  an  open  gap  took 
the  place  of  that  part  of  the  fence.  The  pro- 
fessor examined  the  young  soldier  in  the  mean- 
time, and  found  his  leg  had  been  broken  by  a 
musket  ball.  He  raised  him  up  tenderly  in  his 
arms,  and  was  pleased  to  hear  a  groan  escape 
his  lips.  He  walked  through  the  open  gap  and 
along  the  road  toward  the  house,  bearing  the 
unconscious  form  of  his  pupil.  Margaret 
silently  kept  close  to  his  side,  her  fingers  every 
now  and  then  unconsciously  caressing  the 
damp,  curly  locks  of  her  brother. 

"We  shall  have  to  get  a  doctor?"  Her 
assertion  was  half  an  inquiry. 

"Certainly." 

"  We  must  not  disturb  anyone  in  the  house. 
It  is  better  that  I  should  tell  you  what  to  do 
now,  so  that  we  need  not  talk  when  we  reach 
there." 

"  We  cannot  help  disturbing  someone." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  necessary.  If  you 
will  stay  with  Arthur,  I  will  go  for  the  doctor, 
and  no  one  need  know." 

"  I  will  go  for  the  doctor." 


■■) 


238 


tn  tbe  ^l&9t  of  Blarms. 


i')  \ 


h 


■>      y 


"You  do  not  know  the  way.  It  is  five  or  six 
miles.    I  will  ride  Gypsy,  and  will  soon  be  back." 

*'  But  there  are  prowlers  and  stragglers  all 
along  the  roads.  It  is  not  safe  for  you  to  go 
alone." 

"  It  is  perfectly  safe.  No  horse  that  the 
stragglers  have  stolen  can  overtake  Gypsy. 
Now,  don't  say  anything  more.  It  is  best  that 
I  should  go.  I  will  run  on  ahead,  and  enter 
the  house  quietly.  I  will  take  the  lamp  to  the 
room  at  the  side,  where  the  window  opens  to 
the  floor.  Carry  him  around  there.  I  will  be 
waiting  for  you  at  the  gate,  and  will  show  you 
the  way." 

With  that  the  girl  was  off,  and  Renmark 
carried  his  burden  alone.  She  was  waiting  for 
him  at  the  gate,  and  silently  led  the  way  round 
the  house,  to  where  the  door-window  opened 
upon  the  bit  of  lawn  under  an  apple  tree.  The 
light  streamed  out  upon  the  grass.  He  placed 
the  boy  gently  upon  the  dainty  bed.  It  needed 
no  second  glance  to  tell  Renmark  whose  room 
he  was  in.  It  was  decorated  with  those  pretty 
little  knickknacks  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  girl 
in  a  snuggery  she  can  call  her  own. 

"  It  is  not  likely  you  will  be  disturbed  here," 
she  whispered,  "  until  I  come  back.  I  will  tap 
at  the  window  when  I  come  with  the  doctor." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  better  and 
safer  for  me  to  go?  I  don't  like  the  thought 
of  your  going  alone." 

"  No,  no.  Please  do  just  what  I  tell  you. 
You  do  not  know  the  way.  I  shall  be  very 
much  quicker.  If  Arthur  should— should — 
wake,  he  will  know  you,  and  will  not  be 
alarmed,  as  he  might  be  if  you  were  a  stranger." 

Margaret  was  gone  before  he  could  say  any- 
thing more,  and  Renmark  sat  down,  devoutly 
hoping  no  one  would  rap  at  the  door  of  the 
room  while  he  was  there. 


I!  m 


CHAPTER   XX. 


Margaret  spoke  caressingly  to  her  horse, 
when  she  opened  the  stable  door,  and  Gypsy 
replied  with  that  affectionate,  low  guttural 
whinny  which  the  Scotch  graphically  term 
"  nickering."  She  patted  the  little  animal ;  and 
if  Gypsy  was  surprised  at  being  saddled  and 
bridled  at  that  hour  of  the  night,  no  protest  was 
made,  the  horse  merely  rubbing  its  nose  lovingly 
up  and  down  Margaret's  sleeve  as  she  buckled 
the  different  straps.  There  was  evidently  a 
good  understanding  between  tiie  two. 

"  No,  Gyp,"  she  whispered,  "  I  have  nothing 
for  you  to-night — nothing  but  hard  work  and 
quick  work.  Now,  you  mustn't  make  a  noise 
till  we  get  past  the  house." 

On  her  wrist  she  slipped  the  loop  of  a  riding 
whip,  which  she  always  carried,  but  never  used. 
Gyp  had  never  felt  the  indignity  of  the  lash,  and 
was  always  willing  to  do  what  was  required 
merely  for  a  word. 

Margaret  evened  the  big  gate  before  she 
saddled  her  horse,  and  there  was  therefore  no 
delay  in  getting  out  upon  the  main  road, 
although  the  passing  of  the  house  was  an 
anxious  moment.  She  feared  that  if  her  father 
heard  the  steps  or  the  neighing  of  the  horse  he 
might  come  out  to  investigate.  Hcliway  be- 
tween her  own  home  and  Bartlett's  house  she 
sprang  lightly  into  the  saddle. 

"  Now,  then,  Gyp  !  " 

No  second  word  was  required.     Away  they 

239 


m  ■'( 


II, 


H. 


'  'i 
'     i 


<i 


IV 


:'l 


s.  ; 


I 


.-,'  . 


( '  SI 


'!'> 


240 


Hn  tbe  ^(&0t  of  Blarma. 


sped  down  the  road  toward  the  east,  the  mild 
June  air  coming  sweet  and  cool  and  fresh  from 
the  distant  lake,  laden  with  the  odors  of  the 
woods  and  the  fields.  The  stillness  was  intense, 
broken  only  by  the  plaintive  cry  of  the  whip- 
poorwill,  America's  one-phrased  nightingale,  or 
the  still  more  weird  and  eerie  note  of  a  distant 
loon. 

The  houses  along  the  road  seemed  deserted  ; 
r  lights  were  shown  anywhere.  The  wildest 
rumors  were  abroad  concerning  the  slaughter 
of  the  day  ;  and  the  population,  scattered  as  it 
was,  appeared  to  have  retired  into  its  shell.  A 
spell  of  silence  and  darkness  was  over  the  land, 
and  the  rapid  hoof  beats  of  the  horse  sounded 
with  startling  distinctness  on  the  harder  portions 
of  the  road,  emphasized  by  intervals  of  complete 
stillness,  when  the  fetlocks  sank  in  the  sand  and 
progress  was  more  difficult  for  the  plucky  little 
animal.  The  only  thrill  of  fear  that  Margaret 
felt  on  her  night  journey  was  when  she  entered 
the  dark  arch  of  an  avenue  of  old  forest  trees 
that  bordered  the  road,  like  a  great,  gloomy 
cathedral  aisle,  in  the  shadow  of  which  any- 
thing might  be  hidden.  Once  the  horse,  with  a 
jump  of  fear,  started  sideways  and  plunged 
ahead  :  Margaret  caught  her  breath  as  she  saw, 
or  fancied  she  saw,  several  men  stretched  on 
the  roadside,  asleep  or  dead.  Once  in  the  open 
again  she  breathed  more  freely,  and  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  jump  of  the  horse,  she  would 
have  accused  her  imagination  of  playing  her  a 
trick.  Just  as  she  had  completely  reassured 
herself  a  shadow  moved  from  the  fence  to  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  a  sharp  voice  cried  : 

"  Halt ! " 

The  little  horse,  as  if  it  knew  the  meaning  of 
the  word,  planted  its  two  front  hoofs  together, 
and  slid  along  the  ground  for  a  moment,  com- 
ing so  quickly  to  a  standstill  that  it  was  with 


B 


m 


ITn  tbe  /RlDst  ot  Blarmg. 


241 


some  difficulty  Margaret  kept  her  seat.  She 
saw  in  front  of  her  a  man  holding  a  gun,  evi- 
dently ready  to  fire  if  she  attempted  to  disobey 
his  command. 

"  Who  are  you,  and  where  are  you  going?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  please  let  me  pass  !  "  pleaded  Margaret 
with  a  tremor  of  fear  in  her  voice.  "  I  am  go- 
ing for  a  doctor — for  my  brother  ;  he  is  badly 
wounded,  and  will  perhaps  die  if  I  am  delayed." 

The  man  laughed. 

"  Oho  !  "  he  cried,  coming  closer  ;  "  a  woman, 
is  it  ?  and  a  young  one,  too,  or  I'm  a  heathen. 
Now,  miss  or  missus,  you  get  down.  I'll  have 
to  investigate  this.  The  brother  business  won't 
work  with  an  old  soldier.  It's  your  lover  you're 
riding  for  at  this  time  of  the  night,  or  I'm  no 
judge  of  the  sex.  Just  slip  down,  my  lady,  and 
see  if  you  don't  like  me  better  than  him  ;  re- 
member that  all  cats  are  black  in  the  dark. 
Get  down,  I  tell  you." 

"  If  you  are  a  soldier,  you  will  let  me  go. 
My  brother  is  badly  wounded,  I  must  get  to 
the  doctor." 

"  There's  no  '  must '  with  a  bayonet  in  front 
of  you.  If  he  has  been  wounded,  there's  plenty 
of  better  men  killed  to-day.  Come  down,  my 
dear." 

Margaret  gathered  up  the  bridle  rein,  but, 
even  in  the  darkness,  the  man  saw  her  inten- 
tion. 

"  You  can't  escape,  my  pretty.  If  you  try  it, 
you'll  not  be  hurt,  but  I'll  kill  your  horse.  If 
you  move,  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  hini." 

"  Kill  my  horse  ?  "  breathed  Maigaret  in 
horror,  a  fear  coming  over  her  that  she  had  not 
felt  at  the  thought  of  danger  to  herself. 

"  Yes,  missy,"  said  the  man,  api)roaching 
nearer,  and  laying  his  hand  on  Gypsy's  bridle. 
••  But  there  will  be  no  need  of  that.     Besides,  it 


i  rl 


MMMM 


242 


ITn  the  /IR(D0t  of  Blarms. 


I 


I  ^ 


\, 


.  if 


would  make  too  much  noise,  and  might  bring 
us  company,  which  would  be  inconvenient.  So 
come  down  quietly,  like  the  nice  little  girl  you 
are." 

"  If  you  will  let  me  go  and  tell  the  doctor,  I 
will  come  back  here  and  be  your  prisoner." 

The  man  laugiied  again  in  low,  tantalizing 
tones.     This  was  a  good  joke. 

"  Oh,  no,  sweetheart.  I  wasn't  born  so  re- 
cently as  all  that.  A  girl  in  the  hand  is  worth 
a  dozen  a  mile  up  the  road.  Now,  come  ofif 
that  horse,  or  I'll  take  you  off.  This  is  war 
time,  and  I'm  not  going  to  waste  any  more 
pretty  talk  on  you." 

The  man,  wh-»,  she  now  saw,  was  hatless, 
leered  up  at  her  and  something  in  his  sinister 
eyes  made  the  girl  quail.  She  had  been  so  quiet 
that  he  apparently  was  not  prepared  for  any 
sudden  movement.  Her  right  hand,  hanging 
down  at  her  side,  had  grasped  the  short  riding 
whip,  and,  with  a  swiftness  that  gave  him  no 
chance  to  ward  off  the  blow,  she  struck  him  one 
stinging,  blinding  cut  across  the  eyes,  and  then 
brought  down  the  lash  on  the  flank  of  her 
horse,  drawing  the  animal  round  with  her  left 
over  her  enemy.  With  a  wild  snort  of  aston- 
ishment, the  horse  sprang  forward,  bringing 
man  and  gun  down  to  the  ground  with  a  clatter 
that  woke  the  echoes  ;  then,  with  an  indignant 
toss  of  the  head.  Gyp  sped  along  the  road  like 
the  wind.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
felt  the  cut  of  a  whip,  and  the  blow  was  not 
forgiven.  Margaret,  fearing  further  obstruction 
on  the  road,  turned  her  horse's  head  toward  the 
rail  fence,  and  went  over  it  like  a  bird.  In  the 
field,  where  fast  going  in  the  dark  had  dangers, 
Margaret  tried  to  slacken  the  pace,  but  the  little 
horse  would  not  have  it  so.  He  shook  his  head 
angrily  whenever  he  thought  of  the  indignity  of 
that  blow,  while  Margaret  leaned  over  and  tried 


•ffn  tbe  £tsit>Bt  ot  Blavms. 


243 


to  explain  and  beg  pardon  for  her  offense. 
The  second  fence  was  crossed  with  a  clean-cut 
leap,  and  only  once  in  the  next  field  did  the 
horse  stumble,  but  quickly  recovered  and  went 
on  at  the  same  breakneck  gait.  The  next 
fence,  gallantly  vaulted  over,  brought  them  to 
the  side  road,  half  a  mile  up  which  stood  the 
doctor's  house.  Margaret  saw  the  futility  of 
attempting  a  reconciliation  until  the  goal  was 
won.  There,  with  difficulty,  the  horse  was 
stopped,  and  the  girl  struck  the  panes  of  the 
upper  window,  through  which  a  light  shone, 
with  her  riding  whip.  The  window  was  raised, 
and  the  situation  speedily  explained  to  the 
physician. 

"  I  will  be  with  you  in  a  moment,"  he  said. 

Then  Margaret  slid  from  the  saddle,  and  put 
her  arms  around  the  neck  of  the  trembling 
horse.  Gypsy  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
her,  and  sniffed  the  air  with  offended  dignity. 

"  It  was  a  shame.  Gyp,"  she  cried,  almost 
tearfully,  stroking  the  glossy  neck  of  her  resent- 
ful friend ;  "  it  was,  it  was,  and  I  know  it ;  but 
what  was  I  to  do.  Gyp  ?  You  were  the  only 
protector  I  had,  and  you  d/d  bowl  him  over 
beautifully ;  no  other  horse  could  have  done  it 
so  well.  It's  wicked,  but  I  do  hope  you  hurt 
him,  just  because  I  had  to  strike  you." 

Gypsy  was  still  wrathful,  and  indicated  by  a 
toss  of  the  head  that  the  wheedling  of  a  woman 
did  not  make  up  for  a  blow.  It  was  the  insult 
more  than  the  pain  ;  and  from  her — there  was 
the  sting  of  it. 

"  I  know— I  know  just  how  you  feel,  Gypsy 
dear ;  and  I  don't  blame  you  for  being  angry. 
I  might  have  spoken  to  you,  of  course,  but 
there  was  no  time  to  think,  and  it  was  really 
him  I  was  striking.  That's  why  it  came  down 
so  hard.  If  I  had  said  a  word,  he  would  have 
got  out  of  the  way,  coward  that  he  was,  and 


V     ", 


V  '  ^ 


'III  :?• 


244 


IFn  tbe  /IftiOst  ot  Blarme. 


then  would  have  shot  you^yot^,  Gypsy  !  Think 
of  it !  " 

If  a  man  can  be  molded  in  any  shape  that 
pleases  a  clever  woman,  how  can  a  horse  ex- 
pect to  be  exempt  from  her  influence.  Gypsy 
showed  signs  of  melting,  whinnying  softly  and 
forgivingly. 

"And  it  will  never  happen  again,  Gypsy — 
never,  never.  As  soon  as  we  are  safe  home 
again  I  will  burn  that  w!.lp.  You  little  pet,  i 
knew  you  wouldn't " 

Gypsy's  head  rested  on  Margaret's  shoulder, 
and  we  must  draw  a  veil  over  the  reconciliation. 
Some  things  are  too  sacred  for  a  mere  man  to 
meddle  with.  The  friends  were  friends  once 
more,  and  on  the  altar  of  friendship  the  unof- 
fending whip  was  doubtless  offered  as  a  burn- 
ing sacrifice. 

When  the  doctor  came  out,  Margaret  ex- 
plained the  danger  of  tlie  road,  and  proposed 
that  they  should  return  by  the  longer  and 
northern  way — the  Concession,  as  it  was  called. 

They  met  no  one  on  the  silent  road,  and 
soon  they  saw  the  light  in  the  window. 

The  doctor  and  the  girl  left  their  horses  tied 
some  distance  from  the  house,  and  walked  to- 
gether to  the  window  with  the  stealthy  steps 
of  a  pair  of  housebreakers.  Margaret  listened 
breathlessly  at  the  closed  window,  and  thought 
she  heard  the  low  murmur  of  conversation. 
She  tapped  lightly  on  the  pane,  and  the  pro- 
fessor threw  brck  the  door-window. 

"  We  were  getting  very  anxious  about  you," 
he  whispered. 

"  Hello,  Peggy  !  "  said  the  boy,  with  a  wan 
smile,  raising  his  head  slightly  from  the  pillow 
and  dropping  it  back  again. 

Margaret  stooped  over  and  kissed  him. 

•'  My  poor  boy  !  what  a  fright  you  have  given 
me ! " 


"ffn  tbe  /iBlOst  of  Blarma. 


245 


"  Ah,  Margery,  think  what  a  fright  I  got  my- 
self. I  thought  I  was  going  to  die  within  sight 
of  the  house." 

The  doctor  gently  pushed  Margaret  from  the 
room.  Renmark  waited  until  the  examination 
was  over,  and  then  went  out  to  find  her. 

She  sprang  forward  to  meet  him. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  said.  "There  is  nothing 
to  fear.  He  has  been  exhausted  by  loss  of 
blood,  but  a  few  days'  quiet  will  set  that  right, 
Then  all  you  will  have  to  contend  against  will 
be  his  impatience  at  being  kept  to  his  room. 
wiiich  may  be  necessary  for  some  weeks." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  !  and — and  I  am  so  much 
obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Renmark  !  " 

"  I  have  done  nothing — except  make  blun- 
ders," replied  the  professc  vith  a  bitterness 
that  surprised  and  hurt  her. 

"  How  can  yoi  -jay  that  ?  You  have  done 
everything.     We  owe  his  life  to  you." 

Renmark  said  nothing  for  a  moment.  Her 
unjust  accusation  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  night 
had  deeply  pained  him,  and  he  hoped  for  some 
hint  of  disclaimer  from  her.  Belonging  to  the 
stupider  sex,  he  did  not  realize  that  the  words 
were  spoken  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement 
and  fer.r,  tliat  another  woman  would  probably 
have  expressed  her  condition  of  mind  by  faint- 
ing instead  of  talking,  and  that  the  whole 
episode  had  left  absolutely  no  trace  on  the 
recollection  of  Margaret.  At  last  Renmark 
spoke  : 

"  I  must  be  getting  back  to  the  tent,  if  it  still 
exists.  I  think  I  had  an  appointment  there 
with  Yates  some  twelve  hours  ago,  but  up  to 
this  moment  I  had  forgotten  it.     Good-night." 

Margaret  stood  for  a  few  moments  alone,  and 
wondered  what  she  had  done  to  offend  him. 
He  stumbled  along  the  dark  road,  not  heeding 
much  the  direction  he  took,  but  automatically 


'i 


r  ) 


1! 


a  /,. 


V     \      i 


. ) 


i     fi  ^:i 


H    ) 


246 


f  n  tbe  AiDat  of  Blarma. 


Have  you  provided 
the   last  twenty-four 

of    potatoes   here,   I 
near    the  tent  since 


going  the  nearest  way  to  the  tent.  Fatigre  md 
the  want  of  sleep  were  heavy  upon  him,  iw  his 
feet  were  as  lead.  Although  dazed,  he  v  a?  con- 
scious of  a  dull  ache  where  his  heart  v;'.j  sup- 
posed to  be,  and  he  vaguely  hoped  he  had  not 
made  a  fool  of  himself.  He  entered  the  tent, 
and  was  startled  by  the  voice  of  Yates  : 

"  Hello  !  hello  !     Is  that  you,  Stoliker  ?  " 

"  No  ;  it  is  Renmark.     Are  you  asleep  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  have  been.     Hunger  is  the  one 
sensation  of  the  moment 
anything   to   eat   within 
hours  ?  " 

"  There's   a    bag  full 
believe.     I  haven't  been 
early  morning." 

"  All  right ;  only  don't  expect  a  recommen- 
dation from  me  as  cook.  I'm  not  yet  hungry 
enough  for  raw  potatoes.  What  time  has  it 
got  to  be?" 

•'  I'm  sure  I  don't  know." 

"  Seems  as  if  I  had  been  asleep  for  weeks. 
I'm  the  latest  edition  of  Rip  Van  Winkle,  and 
expect  to  find  my  mustache  gray  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  was  dreaming  sweetly  of  Stoliker  when 
you  fell  over  the  bunk." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  him  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  wide  enough  awake  to  remember. 
I  f/i/nk  I  killed  him,  but  wouldn't  be  sure.  So 
many  of  my  good  resolutions  go  wrong  that 
very  likely  he  is  alive  at  this  moment.  Ask  me 
in  the  morning.  What  have  you  been  prowling 
after  all  night  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer.  Renmark  was  evi- 
dently asleep. 

"  I'll  ask  you  in  the  morning,"  muttered 
Yates  drowily — after  which  there  was  silence  in 
the  tent. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 


was  evi- 


Yates  had  stubbornly  refused  to  g've  up  his 
search  for  rest  and  quiet  in  spite  of  the  dis- 
comfort of  living  in  a  leaky  and  battered  tent. 
He  expressed  regret  that  he  had  not  originally 
camped  in  the  middle  of  Broadway,  as  being 
a  quieter  and  less  exciting  spot  than  the  place 
he  had  chosen ;  but,  having  made  the  choice, 
he  was  going  to  see  the  last  dog  hung,  he  said. 
Renmark  had  become  less  and  less  of  a  com- 
rade. He  was  silent,  and  almost  as  gloomy  as 
Hiram  Bartlett  himself.  Wiien  Yates  tried  to 
cheer  him  up  by  showing  him  how  much  worse 
another  man's  position  might  be,  Renmark 
generally  ended  the  talk  by  taking  to  the  wood. 

"Just  reflect  on  my  position,"  Yates  would 
say.  "  Here  I  am  dead  in  love  with  two  lovely 
girls,  both  of  whom  are  merely  waiting  for  the 
word.  To  one  of  them  I  have  nearly  com- 
mitted myself,  which  fact,  to  a  man  of  my  tem- 
perament, inclines  me  somewhat  to  the  other. 
Here  I  am  anxious  to  confide  in  you,  and  yet  I 
feel  that  I  risk  a  fight  every  time  I  talk  about 
the  complication.  You  have  no  sympathy 
for  me,  Renny,  when  I  need  sympathy  ;  while  I 
am  bubbling  over  with  sympathy  for  you,  and 
you  won't  have  it.  Now,  what  would  you  do  if 
you  were  in  my  fix  ?  If  you  would  take  five 
minutes  and  show  me  clearly  which  of  the  two 
girls  I  really  ought  to  marry,  it  would  help  me 
ever  so  much,  for  then  I  would  be  sure  to  settle 


W 


247 


i\ 


948 


•ffn  tbe  ^IDst  of  Blarms. 


..'  f 


on  the  other.  It  is  the  indecision  that  is  slowly 
but  surely  sapping  my  vitality." 

By  this  time  Renmark  would  have  pulled  his 
soft  felt  hat  over  his  eyes,  and,  muttering  words 
that  would  have  echoed  strangely  in  the  silent 
halls  of  the  university  building,  would  plunge 
into  the  forest.  Yates  generally  looked  after 
his  retreating  figure  without  anger,  but  with 
mild  wonder. 

"  Well,  of  all  cantankerous  cranks  he  is  the 
worst,"  he  would  say  with  a  sigh.  "  It  is  sad 
to  see  the  temple  of  friendship  tumble  down 
about  one's  ears  in  this  way. "  At  their  last  talk 
of  this  kind  Yates  resolved  not  to  discuss  the 
problem  again  with  the  professor,  unless  a  crisis 
came.  The  crisis  came  in  the  form  of  Stoliker, 
who  dropped  in  on  Yates  as  the  latter  lay  in 
the  hammock,  smoking  and  enjoying  a  thrilling 
romance.  The  camp  was  strewn  with  these 
engrossing,  paper-covered  works,  and  Yates 
had  read  many  of  them,  hoping  to  come  across 
a  case  similar  to  his  own,  but  up  to  the  time  of 
Stoliker's  visit  he  had  not  succeeded. 

"  Hello,  Stoliker !  how's  things  ?  Got  tbe 
cuffs  in  your  pocket  ?  Want  to  have  another 
tour  across  country  with  me  ?  " 

"  No.  But  I  came  to  warn  you.  There  will 
be  a  warrant  out  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and,  if 
I  were  you,  I  would  get  over  to  the  other  side  ; 
though  you  need  never  say  I  told  you.  Of 
course,  if  they  give  the  warrant  to  me,  I  shall 
have  to  arrest  you  ;  and  although  nothing  may 
be  done  to  you,  still,  the  country  is  in  a  state  of 
excitement,  and  you  will  at  least  be  put  to  some 
inconvenience." 

"  Stoliker,"  cried  Yates,  springing  out  of  the 
hammock,  "  you  are  a  white  man  !  You're  a 
good  fellow,  Stoliker,  and  Fm  ever  so  much 
obliged.  If  you  ever  come  to  New  York,  you 
call  on  me  at  the  Argiis  office, — anybody  will 


'r 


?!     i 


•ffn  tbe  flblDet  of  Blarma. 


249 


show  you  where  it  is, — and  I'll  give  you  the 
liveliest  time  you  ever  had  in  your  life.  It  won't 
cost  you  a  cent,  either." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  constable.  "  Now, 
if  I  were  you,  I  would  light  out  to-morrow  at 
the  latest." 

"  I  will,"  said  Yates. 

Stoliker  disappeared  quietly  among  the  trees, 
and  Yates,  after  a  moment's  thought,  began 
energetically  to  pack  up  his  belongings.  It 
was  dark  before  he  had  finished,  and  Renmark 
returned. 

"  Stilly,"  cried  the  reporter  cheerily,  "  there's 
a  warrant  out  for  my  arrest.  I  shall  have  to 
go  to-morrow  at  the  latest !  " 

"  What  !  to  jail  ?  "  cried  his  horrified  friend, 
his  conscience  now  troubling  him,  as  the  part- 
ing came,  for  his  lack  of  kindness  to  an  old 
comrade. 

"  Not  if  the  court  knows  herself.  But  to 
Buffalo,  which  is  pretty  much  the  same  thing. 
Still,  thank  goodness,  I  don't  need  to  stay  there 
long.  I'll  be  in  New  York  before  I'm  many 
days  older.  I  yearn  to  plunge  into  the  arena 
once  more.  The  still,  calm  peacefulness  of  this 
whole  vacation  has  made  me  long  for  excite- 
ment again,  and  I'm  glad  the  warrant*  has 
pushed  me  into  the  turmoil." 

"Well,  Richard,  I'm  sorry  you  have  to  go 
under  such  conditions.  I'm  afraid  I  have  not 
been  as  companionable  a  comrade  as  you 
should  have  had." 

"  Oh,  you're  all  right,  Renny.  The  trouble 
with  you  is  that  you  have  drawn  a  little  circle 
around  Toronto  Univ^ersity,  and  said  to  your- 
self :  '  This  is  the  world.'  It  isn't,  you  know. 
There  is  something  outside  of  all  that." 

"  Every  man,  doubtless,  has  his  little  circle. 
Yours  is  around  the  Argtis  office." 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  special  wires  from  that 


t  I 


ki 


'ff!' 


r      I 


250 


In  tbe  /Bbidet  of  Blarme. 


.  >'^ ; 


Pi 


'A      ■> 


little  circle  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  soon 
there  will  be  an  Atlantic  cable." 

"  I  do  not  hold  that  my  circle  is  as  large  as 
yours  ;  still,  there  is  something  outside  of  New 
York,  even." 

"You  bet  your  life  there  is;  and,  now  that 
you  are  in  a  more  sympathetic  frame  of  mind,  it 
is  that  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about.  Those 
two  girls  are  outside  my  little  circle,  and  I 
want  to  bring  one  of  them  within  it.  Now, 
Renmark,  which  of  those  girls  would  you 
choose  if  you  were  nie  ?  " 

The  professor  drew  in  his  breath  sharply, 
and  was  silent  for  a  moment.  At  last  he  said, 
speaking  slowly  : 

"  1  am  afraid,  Mr.  Yates,  that  you  do  not 
quite  appreciate  my  point  of  view.  As  you 
may  think  I  have  acted  in  an  unfriendly  man- 
ner, I  will  try  for  the  first  and  final  time  to  ex- 
plain it.  I  hold  that  any  man  who  marries  a 
good  woman  gets  more  than  he  deserves,  no 
matter  how  worthy  he  may  be.  I  have  a  pro- 
found respect  for  all  women,  and  I  think  that 
your  light  chatter  about  choosing  between  two 
is  an  insult  to  both  of  them.  I  think  either  of 
them  is  infinitely  too  good  for  you — or  for  me 
either." 

"  Oh,  you  do,  do  you  ?  Perhaps  you  think 
that  vou  would  make  a  much  better  husband 
than  I.  If  that  is  the  case,  allow  me  to  say 
you  are  entirely  wrong.  If  your  wife  w^as  sensi- 
tive, you  would  kill  her  with  your  gloomy  fits.  I 
wouldn't  go  ofT  in  the  woods  and  sulk,  anyhow." 

"  If  you  are  referring  to  me,  I  will  further 
inform  you  that  I  had  either  to  go  off  in  the 
woods  or  knock  you  down.  I  chose  the  less 
of  two  evils," 

"  Think  you  could  do  it,  I  suppose  ?  Renny, 
you're  conceited.  You're  not  the  first  man  who 
has  made  such  a  mistake,  and  found  he  was 


f  n  tbe  Iti^et  ot  Blarma. 


251 


barking  up  the  wrong  tree  when  it  was  too  late 
for  anything  but  bandages  and  arnica." 

"  I  have  tried  to  show  you  how  I  feel  regard- 
ing this  matter.  I  might  have  known  I  should 
not  succeed.  We  will  end  the  discussion,  if  you 
pleas  ." 

"  On,  no.  The  discussion  is  just  beginning. 
Now,  Renny,  I'll  tell  you  what  you  need.  You 
need  a  good,  sensible  wife  worse  than  any  man 
I  know.  It  is  not  yet  too  late  to  save  you,  but 
it  soon  will  be.  You  will,  before  long,  grow 
a  crust  on  you  like  a  snail,  or  a  lobster,  or  any 
other  cold-blooded  animal  that  gets  a  shell  on 
itself.  Then  nothing  can  be  done  for  you. 
Now,  let  me  save  you,  Renny,  before  it  is  too 
late.  Here  is  my  proposition  :  You  choose  one 
of  those  girls  and  marry  her.  I'll  take  the 
other.  I'm  not  as  unselfish  as  I  may  seem  in 
this,  for  your  choice  will  save  me  the  worry  of 
making  up  my  own  mind.  According  to  your 
talk,  eitlier  of  the  girls  is  too  good  for  you,  and 
for  once  I  entirely  agree  with  you.  But  let  that 
pass.     Now,  which  one  is  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  Good  God  !  man,  do  you  think  I  am  going 
to  bargain  with  you  about  my  future  wife  ?  " 

"  That's  right,  Renny.  I  like  to  hear  you 
swear.  It  shows  you  are  not  yet  the  prig  you 
would  have  folks  believe.  There's  still  hope  for 
you,  professor.  Now,  I'll  go  further  with  you. 
Although  I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  just  what 
to  do  myself,  I  can  tell  instantly  which  is  the 
girl  for  you,  and  thus  we  solve  both  problems 
at  one  stroke.  You  need  a  wife  v/ho  will  take 
you  in  hand.  You  need  one  who  will  not  put 
up  with  your  tantrums,  who  will  be  cheerful, 
and  who  will  make  a  man  of  you.  Kitty  Bart- 
lett  is  the  girl.  She  will  tyra»  ->ize  over  you, 
just  as  her  mother  does  over  the  old  man.  She 
will  keep  house  to  the  queen's  taste,  and  delight 
in  getting  you  good  things  to  eat.     Why,  every- 


^.1 


'i 


\     4 


252 


•ffn  tbe  /HbiDst  of  Hlarms. 


('     I' 


3 


f. 

':^' 

|:  /j 

Ifri; 

J          i 

B 

-■  /  ' 

K 

'1  . 

■ 

{ 

S 

h 

9 

-1 : 

*' 

■  '  1 

^. 


thing  is  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff.  That  shows 
the  benefit  of  talking  over  a  thing.  You  marry 
Kitty,  and  I'll  marry  Margaret.  Come,  let's 
skake  hands  over  it."  Yates  held  up  his  right 
hand,  ready  to  slap  it  down  on  the  open  palm 
of  the  professor,  but  there  was  no  response. 
Yates'  hand  came  down  to  his  side  again,  but 
he  had  not  yet  lost  the  enthusiasm  of  his  pro- 
posal. The  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more 
fitting  it  seemed. 

"  Margaret  is  such  a  sensible,  quiet,  level- 
headed girl  that,  if  I  am  as  flippant  as  you  say, 
she  will  be  just  the  wife  for  me.  There  are 
depths  in  my  character,  Renmark,  that  you  have 
not  suspected." 

"Oh,  you're  deep." 

*'  I  admit  it.  Well,  a  good,  sober-minded 
woman  would  develop  the  best  that  is  in  me. 
Now,  what  do  you  say,  Renny  .'*  " 

"  I  say  nothing.  I  am  going  into  the  woods 
again,  dark  as  it  is." 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Yates  with  a  sigh,  "there's 
no  doing  anything  with  you  or  for  you.  I've 
tried  my  best ;  that  is  one  consolation.  Don't 
go  away.  I'll  let  fate  decide.  Here  goes  for  a 
toss-up." 

And  Yates  drew  a  silver  half  dollar  from  his 
pocket.  "  Heads  for  Margaret ! "  he  cried. 
Renmark  clinched  his  fist,  took  a  step  forward, 
then  checked  himself,  remembering  that  this 
was  his  last  night  with  the  man  who  had  at 
least  once  been  his  friend. 

Yates  merrily  spun  the  coin  in  the  air,  caught 
it  in  one  hand,  and  slapped  the  other  over  it. 

"  Now  for  the  turning  point  in  the  lives  of 
two  innocent  beings."  He  raised  the  covering 
hand,  and  peered  at  the  coin  in  the  gathering 
gloom.  "  Heads  it  is.  Margaret  Howard 
becomes  Mrs.  Richard  Yates.  Congratulate 
me,  professor." 


f  n  tbe  AiDdt  ot  Blarms. 


253 


Renmark  stood  motionless  as  a  statue,  an 
object  lesson  in  self-control.  Yates  set  his  hat 
more  jauntily  on  his  head,  and  slipped  the 
epoch-making  coin  into  his  trousers  pocket. 

"  Good-by,  old  man,"  he  said.  '*  I'll  see  you 
later,  and  tell  you  all  the  particulars." 

Without  waiting  for  the  answer,  for  which 
he  probaljly  knew  there  would  have  been  little 
use  in  delaying,  Yates  walked  to  the  fence  and 
sprang  over  it,  with  one  hand  on  the  top  rail. 
Renm«rk  stood  still  for  some  minutes,  then, 
quietly  gathering  underbrush  and  sticks  large 
and  small,  lighted  a  fire,  and  sat  down  on  a 
log,  with  his  head  in  his  hands. 


"5 


I 


'tt 


!■: 


)  the  woods 


I 


n^ 


h      it 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Yates  walked  merrily  down  the  road,  whis- 
tling "  Gayly  the  troubadour."  Perhaps  there 
is  no  moment  in  a  man's  life  when  he  feels  the 
joy  of  being  alive  more  keenly  than  when  he 
goes  to  propose  to  a  girl  of  whose  favorable 
answer  he  is  reasonably  sure — unless  it  be  the 
moment  he  walks  away  an  accepted  lover. 
There  is  a  magic  about  a  June  night,  with  its 
soft,  velvety  darkness  and  its  sweet,  mild  air 
laden  with  the  perfumes  of  wood  and  field. 
The  enchantment  of  the  hour  threw  its  spell 
over  the  young  man,  and  he  resolved  to  live  a 
better  life,  and  be  worthy  of  the  girl  he  had 
chosen,  or,  rather,  that  fate  had  chosen  for  him. 
He  paused  a  moment,  leaning  over  the  fence 
near  the  Howard  homestead,  for  he  had  not 
yet  settled  in  his  own  mind  the  details  oi  ihe 
meeting.  He  would  not  go  in,  for  in  that  case 
he  knew  he  would  have  to  talk,  perhaps  for 
hours,  with  everyone  but  the  person  he  wished 
to  meet.  If  he  announced  himself  and  asked  to 
see  Margaret  alone,  his  doing  so  would  embar- 
rass her  at  the  very  beginning.  Yates  was 
naturally  too  much  of  a  diplomat  to  begin 
awkwardly.  As  he  stood  there,  wishing  chance 
would  bring  her  out  of  the  house,  there  ap- 
peared a  light  in  the  door-window  of  the  room 
where  he  knew  the  convalescent  boy  lay.  Mar- 
garet's sliadow  formed  a  silhouette  on  the 
blind.  Yates  caught  up  a  handful  of  sand,  and 
flung  it  lightly  against  the  pane.  Its  soft 
patter  evidently  attracted  the  attention  of  the 

254 


*<. 


irn  tbe  /IRlDst  of  Blarms. 


255 


lad,  whis- 
aps  chere 

feels  the 
when  he 
favorable 
it  be  the 
ed  lover. 
:,  with  its 
,  mild  air 
and  field. 
r  its  spell 
1  to  live  a 
rl  he  had 
n  for  him. 
the  fence 

had  not 
lils  01  the 
that  case 
rhaps  for 
le  wished 
:1  asked  to 
Id  embar- 
'ates  was 
to  begin 
ng  chance 
there  ap- 
the  room 
ly.  Mar- 
e  on  the 
sand,  and 

Its    soft 
on  of  the 


girl,  for,  after  a  moment's  pause,  the  window 
opened  carefully,  while  Margaret  stepped 
quickly  out  and  closed  it,  quietly  standing  there. 

"  Margaret,"  whispered  Yates  hardly  above 
his  breath. 

The  girl  advanced  toward  the  fence. 

"Is  that  /<?«.?"  she  whispered  in  return, 
with  an  accent  on  the  last  word  that  thrilled 
her  listener.  The  accent  told  plainly  as  speech 
that  the  word  represented  the  one  man  on 
earth  to  her. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Yates,  springing  over  the 
fence  and  approaching  her. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Margaret,  starting  back,  then 
checking  herself,  with  a  catch  in  her  voice. 
"  You— you  startled  me — Mr.  Yates." 

"  Not  Mr.  Yates  any  more,  Margaret,  but 
Dick.  Margaret,  I  wanted  to  see  you  alone. 
You  know  why  I  have  come."  He  tried  to 
grasp  both  her  hands,  but  she  put  them  reso- 
lutely behind  her,  seemingly  wishing  to  retreat, 
yet  standing  her  ground. 

"  Margaret,  you  must  have  seen  long  ago  how 
it  is  with  me.  I  love  you,  Margaret,  loyally  and 
truly.  It  seems  as  if  I  had  loved  you  all  my 
life.  I  certainly  have  since  the  first  day  I  saw 
you." 

"Oh,  Mr. Yates,  you  must  not  talk  to  me  like 
this." 

"  My  darling,  how  else  can  I  talk  to  you  }  It 
cannot  be  a  surprise  to  you,  Maigaret.  You 
must  have  known  it  long  ago." 

"  I  did  not,  indeed  I  did  not — if  you  really 
mean  it." 

"  Mean  it  ?  I  never  meant  anything  as  I 
mean  this.  It  is  everything  to  me,  and  nothing 
else  is  anything.  I  have  knocked  about  the 
world  a  good  deal,  I  admit,  but  I  never  was  in 
love  before — never  knew  what  love  was  until  I 
met  you.    I  tell  you  that " 


1 


' 


256 


•ffn  tbe  IVsi^Bt  ot  Blarms. 


m 


"  Please,  please,  Mr.  Yates,  do  not  say  any- 
thing more.  If  it  is  really  true,  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  sorry  I  am.     I  hope  nothing  I  have 

said  or  done  has  made  you  believe  that — that 

Oh,  I  do  not  know  what  to  say  !  I  never  thought 
you  could  be  in  earnest  about  anything." 

"  You  surely  cannot  have  so  misjudged  me, 
Margaret.  Others  have,  but  I  did  not  expect 
it  of  you.  You  are  far  and  away  better  than  I 
am.  No  one  knows  that  so  well  as  I.  I  do 
not  pretend  to  be  worthy  of  you,  but  I  will  be  a 
devoted  husband  to  you.  Any  man  who  gets 
the  love  of  a  good  woman,"  continued  Yates 
earnestly,  plagiarizing  Renmark,  "  gets  more 
than  he  deserves  ;  but  surely  such  love  ';s  mine 
is  not  given  merely  to  be  scornfully  trampled 
underfoot." 

"  I  do  not  treat  your — you  scornfully,  i  ?m 
only  sorry  if  what  you  say  is  true." 

"  Why  do  you  say  ^/" it  is  true?  Don't  ycu 
know  it  is  true  ?  " 

"  Then  I  am  veiy  sorry — very.  7-'ery  sorry,  atid 
I  hope  it  is  through  no  fault  of  mine.  But  you 
will  soon  forget  me.  When  you  return  to  New 
York " 

"  Margaret,"  said  the  young  man  bitterly,  "  I 
shall  never  forget  you.  Think  what  you  are 
doing  before  it  is  too  late.  Think  how  much 
this  means  to  me.  If  you  finally  refuse  me,  you 
will  wreck  my  life.  I  am  the  sort  of  man  that 
a  woman  can  make  or  mar.  Do  not,  I  beg 
of  you,  ruin  the  life  of  the  man  who  loves 
you." 

"  I  am  not  a  missionary,"  cried  Margaret 
with  sudden  anger.  "  If  your  life  is  to  be 
wrecked,  it  will  be  through  your  own  foolish- 
ness, and  not  from  any  act  of  mine.  I  think  it 
cowardly  of  you  to  say  that  I  am  to  be  held 
responsible.  I  have  no  wish  to  influence  your 
future  one  way  or  another." 


i5ay  any- 
inot  tell 
r  I  have 

that 

■  thought 

• 

iged  me, 
)t  expect 
er  than  I 
I.  I  do 
will  be  a 
A^ho  gets 
ed  Yates 
its  more 
t  'IS  mine 
trampled 

ly.     i  ?m 

jon't  ycu 

sorry,  and 
But  you 

n  to  New 

itteriy,  "  I 
you  are 
ow  much 
e  me,  you 
man  that 
lot,  I  beg 
vho  loves 

Margaret 
is  to  be 

n  foolish- 
I  think  it 

o  be  held 

lence  your 


fn  tbe  ^iDdt  of  Blatmgi. 


257 


•*  Not  for  good,  Margaret  ?  "  asked  Yates 
with  tender  reproach. 

"  No.  A  man  whose  good  or  bad  conduct 
depends  on  anyone  but  himself  is  not  my  ideal 
of  a  man." 

"  Tell  me  what  your  ideal  is,  so  that  I  may 
try  to  attain  it." 

Margaret  was  silent. 

"  You  think  it  will  be  useless  for  me  to  try?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  yes." 

"  Margaret,  I  want  to  ask  you  one  more  ques- 
tion. I  have  no  right  to,  but  I  beg  you  to  an- 
swer me.     Are  you  in  love  with  anyone  else  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  cried  Margaret  hotly.  •'  How  dare 
you  ask  me  such  a  question  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  a  crime — that  is,  being  in  love 
with  someone  else  is  not.  I'll  tell  you  why  I 
dare  ask.  I  swear,  by  all  the  gods,  that  I 
shall  win  you — if  not  this  year,  then  next ;  and 
if  not  next,  then  the  year  after.  I  was  a 
coward  to  talk  as  I  did ;  but  I  love  you  more 
now  than  I  did  even  then.  All  I  want  to  know 
is  that  you  are  not  in  love  with  another  man." 

•'  I  think  you  are  very  cruel  in  persisting  as 
you  do,  when  you  have  had  your  answer.  I 
say  no.  Never !  never !  never ! — this  year  nor 
any  other  year.     Is  not  that  enough  ?  " 

"  Not  for  me.  A  woman's  '  no  '  may  ulti- 
timately  mean  *  yes.'  " 

"  That  is  true,  Mr.  Yates,"  replied  Margaret, 
drawing  herself  up  as  one  who  makes  a  final 
plunge.  "  You  remember  the  question  you 
asked  me  just  now  ? — whether  I  cared  for  any- 
one else?    I  said 'no.'    That 'no' meant '  yes.'" 

He  was  standing  between  her  and  the  window, 
so  she  could  not  escape  by  the  way  she  came. 
He  saw  she  meditated  flight,  and  made  as 
though  he  would  intercept  her,  but  she  was  too 
quick  for  him.  She  ran  around  the  house,  and 
he  heard  a  door  open  an.,  shut. 


h\ 


m 


^'\ 


m 


256 


•ffn  tbe  /lR(D0t  of  Blarms. 


S  i 


:    i 


He  knew  he  was  defeated.  Dejectedly  he 
turned  to  the  fence,  climbing  slowly  over  where 
he  had  leaped  so  lightly  a  few  minutes  before, 
and  walked  down  the  road,  cursing  his  fate. 
Although  he  admitted  he  was  a  coward  for 
talking  to  her  as  he  had  done  about  his  wrecked 
life,  yet  he  knew  now  that  every  word  he  had 
spoken  was  true.  What  did  the  future  hold 
out  to  him  ?  Not  even  the  incentive  to  live. 
He  found  himself  walking  toward  the  tent,  but, 
not  wishing  to  meet  Renmark  in  his  present 
frame  of  mind,  he  turned  and  came  out  on  the 
Ridge  Road.  He  was  tired  and  broken,  and 
resolved  to  stay  in  camp  until  they  arrested 
him.  Then  perhaps  she  might  have  some  pity 
on  him.  Who  was  the  other  man  she  loved  ? 
or  had  she  merely  said  that  to  give  finality  to 
her  refusal  ?  In  his  present  mood  he  pictured 
the  worst,  and  imagined  her  the  wife  of  some 
neighboring  farmer — perhaps  even  of  Stoliker. 
These  country  girls,  he  said  to  himself,  never 
believed  a  man  was  worth  looking  at  unless  he 
owned  a  farm.  He  would  save  his  money,  and 
buy  up  the  whole  neighborhood ;  ^^en  she 
would  realize  what  she  had  missed.  He 
climbed  up  on  the  fence  beside  the  road,  and 
sat  on  the  top  rail,  with  his  heels  resting  on  a 
lower  one,  so  that  he  might  enjoy  his  misery 
without  the  fatigue  of  walking.  His  vivid  im- 
agination pictured  himself  as  the  owner  in  a 
few  years'  time  of  a  large  section  of  that  part 
of  the  country,  with  moitgages  on  a  good  deal 
of  the  remainder,  including  the  farm  owned  by 
Margaret's  husband.  He  saw  her  now,  a 
farmer's  faded  wife,  coming  to  him  and  begging 
for  further  time  in  which  to  pay  the  seven  per 
cent.  due.  He  knew  he  would  act  magnani- 
mously on  such  an  occasion,  and  grandly  give 
her  husband  all  the  time  he  required.  Perhaps 
then  she  would  realize  the  mistake  she  had 


'■}! 


t   lib 


•ffn  tbe  lSiit>et  of  Blarme. 


259 


jctedly  he 
ver  where 
es  before, 
r  his  fate. 
)vvard   for 
s  wrecked 
:d  he  had 
iture  hold 
ve  to  Hve. 
tent,  but, 
is  present 
lut  on  the 
roken,  and 
{  arrested 
some  pity 
he  loved  ? 
finality  to 
e  pictured 
e  of  some 
f  Stoliker. 
self,  never 
I  unless  he 
loney,  and 
/At'H    she 
sed.      He 
road,  and 
ing  on  a 
is  misery 
vivid  im- 
wner  in  a 
that  part 
good  deal 
owned  by 


now 


1  begging 
seven  per 
magnani- 
indly  give 
Perhaps 
she  had 


made.  Or  perhaps  fame,  rather  than  riches, 
would  be  his  line.  His  name  would  ring 
throughout  the  land.  He  might  become  a 
great  politician,  and  bankrupt  Canada  with  a 
rigid  tariff  law.  The  unfairness  of  making  the 
whole  innocent  people  suffer  for  the  inconsider- 
ate act  of  one  of  them  did  not  occur  to  him  at 
the  moment,  for  lie  was  humiliated  and  hurt. 
There  is  no  bitterness  like  that  which  assails 
the  man  wiio  h.is  been  rejected  by  the  girl  he 
i  adores — while    it    lasts.      His     eye    wandered 

toward  the  black  mass  of  the  Howard  house. 
It  was  as  dark  as  his  thoughts.  He  turned  his 
head  slowly  around,  and,  like  a  bright  star  of 
hope,  there  glimmered  up  the  road  a  flickering 
light  from  the  Bartletts'  parlor  window.  Al- 
though time  had  stopped  as  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, he  was  convinced  it  could  not  be  very 
late,  or  the  Bartletts  would  have  gone  to  bed. 
It  is  always  difficult  to  realize  that  the  greatest 
of  catastrophes  are  generally  over  in  a  few 
minutes.  It  seemed  an  age  since  he  walked  so 
hopefully  away  from  the  tent.  As  he  looked  at 
the  light  the  thought  struck  him  that  perhaps 
Kitty  was  alone  in  the  parlor.  She  at  least 
would  not  have  treated  him  so  badly  as  the 
other  girl ;  and — and  she  was  pretty,  too,  come 
to  think  of  it.  He  always  did  like  a  blonde 
better  than  a  brunette. 

*  A  fence  rail  is  not  a  comfortable  seat.  It  is 
used  in  some  parts  of  the  country  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  impress  the  sitter  with  the  fact 
of  its  ext  ,me  discomfort,  and  as  a  gentle  hint 
that  his  presence  is  not  wanted  in  that  immedi- 
ate neighborhood.  Yates  recollected  this,  with  a 
smile,  as  he  slid  off  and  stumbled  into  the  ditch 
by  the  side  of  the  road.  His  mind  had  been  so 
preoccupied  that  he  had  forgotten  abcut  the 
ditch.  As  he  walked  along  the  road  toward  the 
star  that  guided  him  he  remembered  he  had 


i 


i! 


26o 


tn  tbe  ^(&6t  of  Blarm0. 


'!  ^ 


i  ;, 


recklessly  offered  Miss  Kitty  to  the  callous  pro- 
fessor. After  all,  no  one  knew  about  the  epi- 
sode of  a  short  time  before  except  himself  and 
Margaret,  and  he  felt  convinced  she  was  not 
a  girl  to  boast  of  her  conquests.  Anyhow,  it 
didn't  matter.  A  man  is  surely  master  of  him- 
self. 

As  he  neared  the  window  he  looked  in.  Peo- 
ple are  not  particular  about  lowering  the  blinds 
in  the  country.  He  was  rather  disappointed  to 
see  Mrs.  Bartlett  sitting  there  knitting,  like  the 
industrious  woman  she  was.  Still  it  was  con- 
soling to  note  that  none  of  the  men-folks  were 
present,  and  that  Kitty,  with  her  fluffy  hair  half 
concealing  her  face,  sat  reading  a  book  he  had 
lent  to  her.  He  rapped  at  the  door,  and  it  was 
opened  by  Mrs  Bartlett,  with  some  surprise. 

"  For  the  land's  sake !  is  that  you,  Mr. 
Yates  ?  " 

"  It  is." 

"Come  right  in.  Why,  what's  the  matter 
with  you  }  You  look  as  if  you  had  lost  your  best 
friend.  Ah,  I  see  how  it  is," — Yates  started, — 
"  you  have  run  out  of  provisions,  and  are  very 
likely  as  hungry  as  a  bear." 

"  You've  hit  it  first  time,  Mrs.  Bartlett.  I 
dropped  around  to  see  if  I  could  borrow  a  loaf 
of  bread.     We  don't  bake  till  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Bartlett  laughed. 

"  Nice  baking  you  would  do  if  you  tried  it. 
I'll  get  you  a  oaf  in  a  minute.  Are  you  sure 
one  is  enough  i  " 

"Quite  enough,  thank  you." 

The  good  woman  bustled  out  to  the  other 
room  for  the  loaf,  and  Yates  made  good  use  of 
her  temporary  absence. 

"  Kitty,"  he  whispered,  "  I  want  to  see  you 
alone  for  a  few  minutes.  I'll  wait  for  you  at 
the  gate.     Can  you  slip  out  ?  ' 

Kitty  blushed  very  red  and  nodded. 


%n  the  ^iddt  of  Blatma. 


261 


% 


"  They  have  a  warrant  out  for  my  arrest,  and 
I'm  off  to-morrow  before  they  can  serve  it. 
But  I  couldn't  go  without  seeing  you.  You'll 
come,  sure  ?  " 

Again  Kitty  nodded,  after  looking  up  at  him 
in  alarm  when  he  spoke  of  the  warrant. 
Before  anything  further  could  be  said  Mrs. 
Bartlett  came  in,  and  Kitty  was  absorbed  in 
her  book. 

"  Won't  you  have  something  to  eat  now 
before  you  go  back  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  ti.ank  you,  Mrs.  Bartlett.  You  see, 
the  professor  is  waiting  for  me." 

"  Let  him  wait,  if  he  didn't  have  sense  enough 
to  come." 

"  He  didn't.     I  offered  him  the  chance." 

"  It  won't  take  us  a  moment  to  set  the  table. 
It  is  not  the  least  trouble," 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  you  are  very  kind.  I 
am  not  in  the  slightest  degree  hungry  now.  I 
am  merely  taking  some  thought  of  the  morrow. 
No ;  I  must  be  going,  and  thank  you  very 
much." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bartlett,  seeing  him  to  the 
door,  "  if  there's  anything  you  want,  come  to 
me,  and  I  v,'ill  let  you  have  it  if  it's  in  the 
house." 

"  You  are  too  good  to  me,"  said  the  young 
man  with  genuine  feeling,  "  and  I  don't 
deserve  it ;  but  I  may  remind  you  of  your 
promise — to-morrow." 

"  See  that  you  do,"  she  answered.  "  Good- 
night." 

Yates  waited  at  the  gate,  placing  the  loaf  on 
the  post,  where  he  forgot  it,  much  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  donor  in  the  morning.  He  did 
not  have  to  wait  long,  for  Kitty  cime  around 
the  house  somewhat  shrinkingly,  as  one  who 
was  doing  the  most  wicked  thing  that  had  been 
done  since  the  world  began.     Yates  hastened 


262 


ffn  tbe  ^iOdt  or  Blaima. 


M 


^M 


to  meet  her,  clasping  one  of  her  unresisting 
hands  in  his. 

"  I  must  be  off  to-morrow,"  he  began. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  answered  Kitty  in  a 
whisper. 

"  Ah,  Kitiy,  you  are  not  half  so  sorry  as  I  am. 
But  I  intend  to  come  back,  if  you  will  let  me. 
Kitty,  you  remember  that  talk  we  had  in  the 
kitchen,  when  we~when  there  was  an  interrup- 
tion, and  when  I  had  to  go  away  with  our 
friend  Stoliker  ?  " 

Kitty  indicated  that  she  remembered  it. 

"  Well,  of  course  you  know  what  I  wanted  to 
say  to  you.  Of  course  you  know  what  I  want 
to  say  to  you  now." 

It  seemed,  however,  that  in  this  he  was  mis- 
taken, for  Kitty  had  not  the  slightest  idea,  and 
wanted  to  go  into  the  house,  for  it  was  late,  and 
her  mother  would  miss  her. 

"  Kitty,  you  darling  little  humbug,  you  know 
that  I  love  you.  You  must  know  tliat  I  have 
loved  you  ever  since  the  first  day  I  saw  you, 
when  you  laughed  at  me.  Kitty,  I  want  you  to 
marry  me  and  make  something  of  me,  if  that  is 
possible.  I  am  a  worthless  fellow,  not  half 
good  enough  for  a  little  pet  like  you  ;  but, 
Kitty,  if  you  v^'ill  only  say  •  yes,'  I  will  try,  and 
try  hard,  to  be  a  better  man  than  I  have  ever 
been  before." 

Kitty  did  not  say  "yes,"  but  she  placed  her 
disengaged  hand,  warm  and  soft,  upon  his,  and 
Yates  was  not  the  man  to  have  any  hesitation 
about  what  to  do  next.  To  practical  people  it 
may  seem  an  astonishing  thing  that,  the  object 
of  the  interview  being  happily  accomplished, 
there  should  be  any  need  of  prolonging  it ;  yet 
the  two  lingered  there,  and  he  told  her  much  of 
his  past  life,  and  of  how  lonely  and  sordid  it 
had  been  because  he  had  no  one  to  care  for 
him — at  which  her  pretty  eyes  filled  with  tears. 


y!    :1 


•ffn  tbe  Ibi^Bt  of  Blarms. 


263 


nresisting 

an. 

itty   in    a 

y  as  I  am. 
II  let  me. 
ad  in  the 
I  interrup- 
with  our 

d  it. 

wanted  to 
at  I  want 

was  mis- 
idea,  and 
5  late,  and 

you  know 

at  I  have 

saw  you, 

int  you  to 

if  that  is 

not   half 

ou  ;    but, 

I  try,  and 

lave  ever 


laced  her 
11  his,  and 
hesitation 

people  it 
:he  object 
mplished, 
ng  it ;  yet 
r  much  of 

sordid  it 
0  care  for 
,'ith  tears. 


She  felt  proud  and  happy  to  think  she  had  won 
the  first  great  love  of  a  talented  man's  life,  and 
hoped  she  would  make  him  happy,  and  in  a 
measure  atone  for  the  emptiness  of  the  life  that 
had  gone  before.  She  prayed  that  he  might 
always  be  as  fond  of  her  as  he  was  then,  and 
resolved  to  be  worthy  of  him  if  she  could. 

Strange  to  say,  her  wishes  have  been  amply 
fulfilled,  and  few  wives  are  as  happy  or  as 
proud  of  their  husbands  as  Kitty  Yates.  The 
one  woman  who  might  have  put  the  drop  of 
bitterness  in  her  cup  of  life  merely  kissed  her 
tenderly  when  Kitty  told  her  of  the  great  joy 
that  had  come  to  her,  and  said  she  was  sure 
she  would  be  happy  ;  and  thus  for  the  second 
time  Margaret  told  the  thing  that  was  not,  but 
for  once  Margaret  was  wrong  in  her  fears. 

Yates  walked  to  the  tent  a  glorified  man,  leav- 
ing his  loaf  on  the  gatepost  behind  him.  Few 
realize  that  it  is  quite  as  pleasant  to  be  loved  as 
to  love.  The  verb  "  to  love  "  has  many  con- 
jugations. The  earth  he  trod  was  like  no 
other  ground  he  had  ever  walked  upon.  The 
magic  of  the  June  night  was  never  so  enchant- 
ing before.  He  strode  along  with  his  head  and 
his  thoughts  in  the  clouds,  and  the  Providence 
that  cares  for  the  intoxicated  looked  after  him, 
and  saw  that  the  accepted  lover  came  to  no 
harm.  He  leaped  the  fence  without  even  put- 
ting his  hand  to  it,  and  then  was  brought  to 
earth  again  by  the  picture  of  a  man  sitting  with 
his  head  in  his  hands  beside  a  dying  fire. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


)  •■  f 


'!    i    > 


Yates  .^iOv.d  for  a  moment  regarding  the  de- 
jected attitude  of  his  friend. 

"Hello,  old  man!"  he  cried,  "you  have  the 
most '  hark-from-the-tombs  '  appearance  I  ever 
saw.     What's  the  matter  ?  " 

Renmark  looked  up. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it's  I.  Been  expecting  anybody 
else  ?  " 

"  No.  I  have  been  waiting  for  you,  and 
thinking  of  a  variety  of  things." 

"  You  look  it.  Well,  Renny,  congratulate 
me,  my  boy.  She's  mine,  and  I'm  hers — which 
are  two  ways  of  stating  the  same  delightful  fact. 
I'm  up  in  a  balloon,  Renny.  I'm  engaged  to 
the  prettiest,  sweetest,  and  most  delightful  girl 
there  is  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. 
What  d'ye  think  of  that?  Say,  Renmark, 
there's  nothing  on  earth  like  it.  You  ought  to 
reform  and  go  in  for  being  in  love.  It  would 
make  a  man  of  you.  Champagne  isn't  to  be 
compared  to  it.  Get  up  here  and  dance,  and 
don't  sit  there  like  a  bear  nursing  a  sore  paw. 
Do  you  comprehend  that  I  am  to  be  married  to 
the  darlingest  girl  that  lives  ?  " 

"  God  help  her  ! " 

"That's  what  I  say.  Every  day  of  her  life, 
bless  her !  But  I  don't  say  it  quite  in  that  tone, 
Renmark.  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  One 
would  think  you  were  in  love  with  the  girl 
yourself,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible," 

264 


!     .,  JT 


f n  tbe  ^bf^^t  of  Blarma. 


265 


ing  the  de- 

j  have  the 
ince  1  ever 


g  anybody 

r  you,  and 

ongratulate 

ers — which 

ghtful  fact. 

ngaged  to 

ghtful  girl 

e    Pacific. 

Ren  mark, 

u  ought  to 

It  would 

isn't  to  be 

dance,  and 

I  sore  paw. 

married  to 


of  her  life, 
n  that  tone, 
^ou  ?  One 
h  the  girl 
e." 


"  Why  is  it  not  possible  ?  " 

"  If  that  is  a  conundrum,  I  can  answer  it  the 
first  time.  Because  you  are  a  fossil.  You  are 
too  good,  Renny  ;  therefore  dull  and  uninterest- 
ing. Now,  there  is  nothing  a  woman  likes  so 
much  as  to  reclaim  a  man.  It  always  annoys 
a  woman  to  know  that  the  man  she  is  interested 
in  has  a  past  with  which  she  has  had  nothing 
to  do.  If  he  is  wicked  and  she  can  sort  of 
make  him  over,  like  an  old  dress,  she  revels  in 
the  process.  She  flatters  herself  she  makes  a 
new  man  of  him,  and  thinks  she  owns  that  new 
man  by  right  of  manufacture.  We  owe  it  to 
the  sex,  Renny,  to  give  'em  a  chance  at  reform- 
ing us.  I  have  known  men  who  hated  tobacco 
take  to  smoking  merely  to  give  it  up  joyfully  for 
the  sake  of  the  women  they  loved.  Now,  if  a 
man  is  perfect  to  begin  with,  what  is  a  dear, 
ministering  angel  of  a  woman  to  do  with  him  ? 
Manifestly  nothing.  The  trouble  with  you, 
Renny,  is  that  you  are  too  evidently  ruled  by  a 
good  and  well-trained  conscience,  and  naturally 
all  women  you  meet  intuitively  see  this,  and  have 
no  use  for  you.  A  little  wickedness  would  be 
the  making  of  you." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  if  a  man's  impulse  is 
to  do  what  his  conscience  tells  him  is  wrong, 
he  should  follow  his  impulse,  and  not  his  con- 
science ?  " 

"  You  state  the  case  with  unnecessary  serious- 
ness. I  believe  that  an  occasional  blow-out  is 
good  for  a  man.  But  if  you  ever  have  an 
impulse  of  that  kind,  I  think  you  should  give 
way  to  it  for  once,  just  to  see  how  it  feels.  A 
man  who  is  too  good  gets  conceited  about  him- 
self." 

"  I  half  believe  you  are  right,  Mr.  Yates," 
said  the  professor,  rising.  "  I  will  act  on  your 
advice,  and,  as  you  put  it,  see  how  it  feels.  My 
conscience  tells  me  that  I  should  congratulate 


.i 


''■ 


j 
f 

J. 


266 


if 


I 


1  i 


f  n  tbe  /lbiD0t  of  Blacmd. 


you,  and  wish  you  a  long  and  happy  life  with 
the  girl  you  have — 1  won't  say  chosen,  but 
tossed  up  for.  The  natural  man  in  me,  on  the 
other  hand,  urges  me  to  break  every  bone  in  your 
worthless  body.     Throw  off  your  coat,  Yates." 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Renmark,  you're  crazy." 

"  Periiaps  so.  Be  all  the  more  on  your 
guard,  if  you  believe  it.  A  lunatic  is  sometimes 
dangerous." 

"  Oh,  go  away.  You're  dreaming.  You're 
talking  in  your  sleep.  What!  Fight?  To- 
night ?     Nonsense ! " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  strike  you  before  you 
are  reacfy  ?  " 

"  No,  Renny,  no.  My  wants  are  always 
modest.  I  don't  wish  to  fight  at  all,  especially 
to-night.  I'm  a  reformed  man,  I  tell  you.  I 
have  no  desire  to  bid  good-by  to  my  best  girl 
with  a  black  eye  to-morrow." 

"  Then  stop  talking,  if  you  can,  and  defend 
yourself." 

"  It's  impossible  to  fight  here  in  the  dark. 
Don't  flatter  yourself  for  a  moment  that  I  am 
afraid.  You  just  spar  with  yourself  and  get 
limbered  up,  while  I  put  some  wood  on  the  lire. 
This  is  too  ridiculous." 

Yates  gathered  some  fuel,  and  managed  to 
coax  the  dying  embers  into  a  blaze. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  that's  better.  Now,  let 
me  have  a  look  at  you.  In  the  name  of  wonder, 
Renny,  what  do  you  want  to  fight  me  for  to- 
night ?  " 

"  I  refuse  to  give  my  reason." 

"  Then  I  refuse  to  fight.  I'll  run,  and  I  can 
beat  you  in  a  foot  race  any  day  in  the  week. 
Why,  you're  worse  than  her  father.  He  at 
least  let  me  know  why  he  fought  me." 

"  Whose  father  ?  " 

"  Kitty's  father,  of  course— my  future  father- 
in-law.    And  that's  another  ordeal  ahead   of 


f  n  tbe  Ubit^et  ot  alarms. 


267 


and  defend 


me.  I  haven't  spoken  to  the  old  man  yet,  and 
I  need  all  my  fighting^  grit  for  that." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  Isn't  my  language  plain  ?     It  usually  is." 

"  To  'vhom  are  you  engaged  ?  As  1  under- 
stand ^  )ur  talk,  it  is  to  Miss  Bartlett.  Am  I 
right  ?  " 

"  Right  as  rain,  Renny.  This  fire  is  dying 
down  again.  Say,  can't  we  postpone  our  fracas 
until  daylight  ?  I  don't  want  to  gather  any 
more  wood.  Besides,  one  of  us  is  sure  to  be 
knocked  into  the  fire,  and  thus  ruin  whatever  is 
left  of  our  clothes.     What  do  you  say?  " 

"  Say  ?     I  say  I  am  an  idiot." 

"  Hello  !  reason  is  returning,  Renny.  I  per- 
fectly agree  with  you." 

"  Thank  you.  Then  you  did  not  propose  to 
Mar  —to  Miss  Howard  ?  " 

"  Now,  you  touch  upon  a  sore  spot,  Renmark, 
that  I  am  trying  to  forget.  You  remember  the 
unfortunate  toss-up  ;  in  fact,  I  tiiink  you  referred 
to  it  a  moment  ago,  and  you  were  justly  indig- 
nant about  it  at  the  time.  Well,  I  don't  care  to 
talk  much  about  the  sequel ;  but,  as  you  know 
the  beginning,  you  will  have  to  know  the  end, 
because  I  want  to  wring  a  sacred  promise  from 
you.  You  are  never  to  mention  this  episode  of 
the  toss-up,  or  of  my  confession,  to  any  living 
soul.  The  telling  of  it  might  do  harm,  and  it 
couldn't  possibly  do  any  good.  Will  you 
promise  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  But  do  not  tell  me  unless  you 
wish  to." 

"  I  don't  exactly  yearn  to  talk  about  it,  but  it 
is  better  you  should  understand  how  the  land 
lies,  so  you  won't  make  any  mistake.  Not  on 
7«y  account,  you  know,  but  I  would  not  like  it 
to  come  to  Kitty's  ears.  Yes,  I  proposed  to 
Margaret — first.  She  wouldn't  look  at  me. 
Can  you  credit  that  }" 


■\ 


I 


\ 


268 


•ffn  tbe  ^IDst  ot  Blarms. 


"  Well,  now  that  you  mention  it,  I- 


K 


"  Exactly.  I  see  you  can  credit  it.  Well,  I 
couldn't  at  first ;  but  Margaret  knows  her  own 
mind,  there's  no  question  about  ///«/.  Say ! 
she's  in  love  with  some  other  fellow.  I  found 
out  that  much." 

"  You  asked  her,  I  presume." 

"  Well,  it's  my  profession  to  find  out  things  ; 
and,  naturally,  if  I  do  that  for  my  paper,  it  is 
not  likely  I  am  going  to  be  behindhand  when  it 
comes  to  myself.  She  denied  it  at  first,  but 
admitted  it  afterward,  and  then  bolted." 

"  You  must  have  used  great  tact  and  delicacy." 

"  See  here,  Renmark  ;  I'm  not  going  to  stand 
any  of  your  sneering.  I  told  you  this  was  a 
sore  subject  with  me.  I'm  not  telling  you  be- 
cause I  like  to,  but  because  I  have  to.  Don't 
put  me  in  fighting  humor,  Mr,  Renmark.  If  / 
talk  fight,  I  won't  begin  for  no  reason  and  then 
back  out  for  no  reason.     I'll  go  on." 

"  I'll  be  discreet,  and  beg  to  take  back  all  I 
said.     What  else?" 

"  Nothing  else.  Isn't  that  enough  ?  It  was 
more  than  enough  for  me — at  the  time.  I  tell 
you,  Renmark,  I  spent  a  pretty  bad  half  hour 
sitting  on  the  fence  and  thinking  about  it." 

"  So  long  as  that  ?  " 

Yates  rose  from  the  fire  indignantly. 

"  I  take  that  back,  tco,"  cried  the  professor 
hastily.     "  I  didn't  mean  it." 

"  It  strikes  me  you've  become  awfully  funny 
all  of  a  sudden.  Don't  you  think  it's  about 
time  we  took  to  our  bunks  ?     It's  late." 

Renmark  agreed  with  him,  but  did  not  turn 
in.  He  walked  to  the  friendly  fence,  laid  his 
arms  along  the  top  rail,  and  gazed  at  the 
friendly  stars.  He  had  not  noticed  before  how 
lovely  the  night  was,  with  its  impressive  still- 
ness, as  if  the  world  had  stopped,  as  a  steamer 
stops  in  mid-ocean.     After  quieting  his  troubled 


l|  iMf  i  i ' 


10* 


it.  Well,  I 
>\vs  her  own 
that.  Say ! 
N.     I  found 


out  things ; 

paper,  it  is 

and  when  it 

It    first,  but 

:ed." 

id  delicacy." 

ing  to  stand 

this  was  a 
ling  you  be- 
;  to.  Don't 
mark.  If  / 
on  and  then 

t  back  all  I 

2^h  ?  It  was 
ime.  I  tell 
d  half  hour 
out  it." 

:ly. 

le  professor 

vfully  funny 
it's  about 
Ue." 
id  not  turn 
ce,  laid  his 
ized  at  the 
before  how 
essive  still- 
is  a  steamer 
his  troubled 


fn  tbe  Abi^dt  of  Blatma* 


269 


spirit  with  the  restful  stars  he  climbed  the 
fence  and  walked  down  the  road,  taking  little 
heed  of  the  direction.  The  still  night  was  a 
soothing  companion.  He  came  at  last  to  a 
sleeping  village  of  wooden  houses,  and  through 
the  center  of  the  town  ran  a  single  line  of  rails, 
an  iron  link  connecting  the  unknown  hamlet 
with  all  civilization.  A  red  and  a  green  light 
glimmered  down  the  line,  giving  the  only  indi- 
cation that  a  train  ever  came  that  way.  As  he 
went  a  mile  or  two  farther  the  cool  breath  of 
the  great  lake  made  itself  felt,  and  after  cross- 
ing a  field  he  suddenly  came  upon  the  water, 
finding  all  further  progress  in  that  direction 
barred.  Huge  sand  dunes  formed  the  shore, 
covered  with  sighing  pines.  At  the  foot  of  the 
dunes  stretched  a  broad  beach  of  firm  sand, 
dimly  visible  in  contrast  with  the  darker  water ; 
and  at  long  intervals  fell  the  light  ripple  of  the 
languid  summer  vaves,  running  up  the  beach 
with  a  half-asleep  whisper,  that  became  softer 
and  softer  until  it  was  merged  in  the  silence  be- 
yond. Far  out  on  the  dark  waters  a  point  of 
light,  like  a  floating  star,  showed  where  a  steamer 
was  slowly  making  her  way ;  and  so  still  was 
the  night  that  he  felt  rather  than  heard  her 
pulsating  engines.  It  was  the  only  sign  of  life 
visible  from  that  enchanted  bay — the  bay  of  the 
silver  beach. 

Renmark  threw  himself  down  on  the  soft 
sand  at  the  foot  of  a  dune.  The  point  of  light 
gradually  worked  its  way  to  the  west,  following, 
doubtless  unconsciously,  the  star  of  empire,  and 
disappeared  around  the  headland,  taking  with  it 
a  certain  vague  sense  of  companionship.  But 
the  world  is  very  small,  and  a  man  is  never 
quite  as  much  alone  as  he  thinks  he  is.  Ren- 
mark heard  the  low  hoot  of  an  owl  among  the 
trees,  which  cry  he  was  astonished  to  hear 
answered  from   the  water.      He  sat  up  and 


^ltLMi\ 


270 


ITu  tbe  Abiddt  of  Blarme. 


^y 


i\ 


listened.  Presently  there  grated  on  the  sand 
the  keel  of  a  boat,  and  someone  stepped  ashore. 
From  the  woods  there  emerged  the  shadowy 
forms  of  three  mt.i.  Nothing  was  said,  but 
they  got  silently  into  the  boat,  which  might 
have  been  Ciiaron's  craft  for  all  he  could  see  of 
it.  The  rattle  of  the  rowlocks  and  the  plash  of 
oars  followed,  while  a  voice  cautioned  the  rowers 
to  make  less  noise.  It  was  evident  that  some 
belated  fugitives  were  eluding  the  authorities  of 
both  countries.  Reninark  thought,  with  a  smile, 
that  if  Yates  were  in  his  place  he  would  at  least 
give  them  a  fright.  A  sharp  command  to  an 
imaginary  company  to  load  and  fire  would 
travel  far  on  such  a  night,  and  would  give  the 
rowers  a  few  moments  of  great  discomfort. 
Renmark,  however,  did  not  shout,  but  treated 
the  episode  as  part  of  the  mystical  dream,  and 
lay  down  on  the  sand  again.  He  noticed  that 
thf*.  water  in  the  east  seemed  to  feel  the  approach 
of  orning  even  before  the  sky.  Gradually  the 
day  dawned,  a  slowly  lightening  gray  at  first, 
until  the  coming  sun  spattered  a  filmy  cloud 
with  gold  and  crimson.  Renmark  watched  the 
glory  of  the.  sunrise,  took  one  lingering  look  at 
the  curved  beauty  of  the  bay  shore,  shook  the 
sand  from  his  clothing,  and  started  back  for 
the  village  and  the  camp  beyond. 

Tiie  village  was  astir  when  he  reached  it. 
He  was  surprised  to  see  Stoliker  on  horseback 
in  front  of  one  of  the  taverns.  Two  assistants 
were  with  him,  also  seated  on  horses.  The 
constable  seemed  disturbed  by  the  sight  of 
Renmark,  but  he  was  there  to  do  his  duty. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  cried,  "  you're  up  early.  I  have 
a  V  arrant  for  the  arrest  of  your  friend  :  I  sup- 
pose you  won't  tell  me  where  he  is  ?  " 

"You  can't  expect  me  to  give  any  infor- 
mation that  will  get  a  friend  into  trouble,  can 
you  ?  especially  as  he  has  done  nothing." 


n0. 

on  the  sand 
pped  ashore, 
the  shadowy 
^as  said,  l)ut 
^'hich  might 
could  see  of 
tlie  plash  of 
Ed  the  rowers 
nt  that  some 
luthorities  of 
with  a  smile, 
/ould  at  least 
nmand  to  an 
fire  would 
uld  give  the 
discomfort. 
,  but  treated 
I  dream,  and 
noticed  that 
the  approach 
Gradually  the 
■ray  at  first, 
filmy  cloud 
watched  the 
sring  look  at 
e,  shook  the 
ed  back  for 

reached  it. 
n  horseback 
o  assistants 
orses.  The 
he  sight  of 
s  duty, 
rly.  I  have 
end  :  I  sup- 
IP 

any   infor- 
trouble,  can 
ring." 


ITn  tbe  Abidet  of  Blarm^. 


271 


"  That's  as  may  turn  out  before  a  jury,"  said 
one  of  the  assistants  gravely. 

"  Yes,"  assented  Stoliker,  winking  quietly  at 
the  professor.  "  That  is  for  judge  and  jury  to 
determine — not  you." 

"  Well,"  said  Renmark,  "  I  will  not  inform 
about  anybody,  unless  1  am  compelled  to  do  so, 
but  I  may  save  you  some  trouble  by  telling 
where  I  have  been  and  what  I  have  seen.  I  am 
on  my  way  back  from  the  lake.  If  you  go  down 
there,  you  will  still  see  the  mark  of  a  boat's  keel 
on  the  sand,  and  probably  footprints.  A  boat 
came  over  from  the  other  shore  in  the  night, 
and  a  man  got  on  board.  I  don't  say  who  the 
man  was,  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter  in  any  way  except  as  a  spectator.  That 
is  all  the  information  I  have  to  give." 

Stoliker  turned  to  his  assistants,  and  nodded. 
•'  What  did  I  tell  you  ?  "  he  asked.  "  We  were 
right  on  his  track." 

"  You  said  the  railroad,"  grumbled  the  man 
who  had  spoken  before. 

"  Well,  we  were  within  two  miles  of  him. 
Let  us  go  down  to  the  lake  and  see  the  traces. 
Then  we  can  return  the  warrant." 

Renmark  found  Yates  still  asleep  in  the  tent. 
He  prepared  breakfast  without  disturbing  him. 
When  the  meal  was  ready,  he  roused  the  re- 
porter and  told  him  of  his  meeting  n'ith  Soliker, 
advising  him  to  get  back  to  New  York  without 
delay. 

Yates  yawned  sleepily. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "  I've  been  dreaming  it  all 
out.  I'll  get  father-in-law  to  tote  me  out  to 
Fort  Erie  to-night." 

••  Do  you  think  it  will  be  safe  to  put  it  off  so 
long  ?  " 

"  Safer  than  trying  to  get  away  during  the 
day.  After  breakfast  I'm  going  down  to  the 
Bartlett  homestead.     Must  have  a  talk  with  the 


m 


h^ 


,-ji 


!l 


;i  I 


)      \' 


h 


373 


f  n  tbe  ^IDat  of  Blarms. 


old  folks,  you  know.  I'll  spend  the  rest  of  the 
day  making  up  for  that  interview  by  talking 
with  Kitty.  Stoliker  will  never  search  for  me 
there,  and,  now  that  he  thinks  I'm  gone,  he  will 
likely  make  a  visit  to  the  tent.  Stoliker  is  a 
good  fellow,  but  his  strong  point  is  duty,  you 
know;  and  if  he's  certain  I'm  gone,  he'll  give 
his  country  the  worth  of  its  money  by  search- 
ing. I  won't  be  back  for  dinner,  so  you  can 
put  in  your  time  reading  my  Dime  Novels.  I 
make  no  reflections  on  your  cooking,  Renny, 
now  that  the  vacation  is  over;  but  I  have  my 
preferences,  and  they  incline  toward  a  final 
meal  with  the  Bartletts.  If  I  were  you,  I'd  have 
a  nap.     You  look  tired  out." 

"  I  am,"  said  the  professor. 

Renmark  intended  to  lie  down  for  a  few 
moments  until  Yates  was  clear  of  the  camp, 
after  which  he  determined  to  pay  a  visit ;  but 
Nature,  when  she  got  him  locked  up  in  sleep, 
took  her  revenge.  He  did  not  hear  Stoliker 
and  his  satellites  search  the  premises,  just  as 
Yates  had  predicted  they  would ;  and  when  he 
finally  awoke,  he  found  to  his  astonishment  that 
it  was  nearly  dark.  But  he  was  all  the  better 
for  his  sleep,  and  he  attended  to  his  personal 
appearance  with  more  than  ordinary  care. 

Old  Hiram  Bartlett  accepted  the  situation 
with  the  patient  and  grim  stolidity  of  a  man 
who  takes  a  blow  dealt  him  by  a  Providence 
known  by  him  to  be  inscrutable.  What  he  had 
done  to  deserve  it  was  beyond  his  comprehen- 
sion. He  silently  hitched  up  his  horses,  and, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  drove  into  Fort 
Erie  without  any  reasonable  excuse  for  going 
there.  He  tied  his  team  at  the  usual  corner, 
after  which  he  sat  at  one  of  the  taverns  and 
drank  strong  waters  that  had  no  apparent 
effect  on  him.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to 
smoke  two  native  cigars ;  and  a  man  who  can 


4 


0* 


•ffn  tbe  flb(d0t  of  Blarme. 


273 


:  rest  of  the 
by  talking 
irch  for  me 
one,  he  will 
koliker  is  a 
is  duty,  you 
le,  he'll  give 
f  by  search- 
so  you  can 
I  Novels.  I 
ing,  Renny, 
It  I  have  my 
,'ard  a  final 
,^ou,rd  have 


I  for  a  few 
f  the  camp, 
a  visit ;  but 
up  in  sleep, 
ear  Stoliker 
nises,  just  as 
nd  when  he 
ishment  that 

II  the  better 
his  personal 
y  care. 

le  situation 

y  of  a  man 

Providence 

CVhat  he  had 

comprehen- 

horses,  and, 

e  into  Fort 

se  for  going 

isual  corner, 

taverns  and 

no  apparent 

o   far  as  to 

lan  who  can 


do  that  can  do  anything.  To  bring  up  a 
daughter  who  would  deliberately  accept  a  man 
from  "  the  States,"  and  to  have  a  wife  who 
would  aid  and  abet  such  an  action,  giving  com- 
fort and  support  to  the  enemy,  seemed  to  him 
traitorous  to  all  the  traditions  of  1812,  or  any 
other  date  in  the  history  of  the  two  countries. 
At  times  wild  ideas  of  getting  blind  full,  and 
going  home  to  break  every  breakable  thing  in 
the  house,  rose  in  his  mind  ;  but  prudence 
whispered  that  he  had  to  live  all  the  rest  of  his 
life  with  his  wife,  and  he  realized  that  this 
scheme  of  vengeance  had  its  drawbacks. 
Finally,  he  untied  his  patient  team,  after  paying 
his  bill,  and  drove  silently  home,  not  having 
returned,  even  by  a  nod,  any  of  the  salutations 
tendered  to  him  that  day.  He  was  somewhat 
relieved  to  find  no  questions  were  asked,  and 
that  his  wife  recognized  the  fact  that  he  was 
passing  through  a  crisis.  Nevertheless,  there 
was  a  steely  glitter  in  her  eye  under  which  he 
uneasily  quailed,  for  it  told  him  a  line  had  been 
reached  which  it  would  not  be  well  for  him  to 
cross.  She  forgave,  but  it  must  not  go  any 
further. 

When  Yates  kissed  Kitty  good-night  at  the 
gate,  he  asked  her,  with  some  trepidation, 
whether  she  had  told  anyone  of  their  engage- 
ment. 

"  No  one  but  Margaret,"  said  Kitty. 

"  And  what  did  she  say  ?  "  asked  Yates,  as  if, 
after  all,  her  opinion  was  of  no  importance. 

"  She  said  she  was  sure  I  should  be  happy, 
and  she  knew  you  would  make  a  good  hus- 
band." 

"  She's  rather  a  nice  girl,  is  Margaret,"  re- 
marked Yates,  with  the  air  of  a  man  willing  to 
concede  good  qualities  to  a  girl  other  than  his 
own,  but  indicating,  after  all.  that  there  was  but 
one  on  earth  for  him. 


274 


1fn  tbe  /RblDst  of  Blarmg. 


H 


) ' 


(    !■ 


t   T" 


"  She  is  a  lovely  girl,"  said  Kitty  enthusiastic- 
ally. "  I  wonder,  Dick,  when  you  knew  her, 
why  you  ever  fell  in  love  with  me." 

"  The  idea  !  I  haven't  a  word  to  say  against 
Margaret ;  but,  compared  W'th  iny  girl " 

And  he  finished  his  sentence  with  a  practical 
illustration  of  his  frame  of  mind. 

As  he  walked  alone  down  the  road  he 
reflected  that  Margaret  had  acted  very  hand- 
somely, and  he  resolved  to  drop  in  and  wish 
her  good-by.  But  as  he  approached  the  house 
his  courage  began  to  fail  him,  and  he  thought 
it  better  to  sit  on  the  fence,  near  the  place 
where  he  had  sat  the  ight  before,  and  think  it 
over.  It  took  a  good  deal  of  thinking.  But  as 
he  sat  there  it  was  destined  that  Yates  should 
receive  some  information  which  would  simplify 
matters.  Two  persons  came  slowly  out  of  the 
gate  in  the  gathering  darkness.  They  strolled 
together  up  the  road  past  him,  absorbed  in 
themselves.  When  directly  opposite  the  re- 
porter, Renmark  put  his  arm  around  Margaret's 
waist,  and  Yates  nearly  fell  off  the  fence.  He 
held  his  breath  until  they  were  safely  out  of 
hearing,  then  slid  down  and  crawled  along  in 
the  shadow  until  he  came  to  the  side  road,  up 
which  he  walked,  thoughtfully   pausing  every 

few   moments  to  remark:  "Well,  I'll  be " 

But  speech  seemed  to  have  failed  him  ;  he  could 
get  no  further. 

He  stopped  at  the  fence  and  leaned  against 
it,  gazing  for  the  last  time  at  the  tent,  glimmer- 
ing white,  like  a  misshapen  ghost,  among  the 
somber  trees.  He  had  no  energy  left  to  cUmb 
over. 

"  Well,  I'm  a  chimpanzee,"  he  muttered  to 
himself  at  last.  "  The  highest  bidder  can  have 
me,  with  no  upset  price.  Dick  Yates,  I 
wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  you.  Vou  a  news- 
paper man  .''     Vou  a  reporter  from  'way  back  ? 


'1  r 


fin  tbe  ^idet  of  Blarmd. 


275 


Vou  up  to  snuff?  Yates,  I'm  ashamed  to  be 
seen  in  your  company  !  Go  back  to  New  York, 
and  let  the  youngest  reporter  in  from  a  country 
newspaper  scoop  the  dayHght  out  of  you.  To 
think  that  this  thing  has  been  going  on  riglit 
under  your  well-developed  nose,  and  you  never 
saw  it — worse,  never  had  the  faintest  suspicion 
of  it;  that  it  was  thrust  at  you  twenty  times  a 
day — nearly  got  your  stupid  head  smashed  on 
account  of  it ;  yet  you  bleated  away  like  the 
innocent  little  lamb  that  you  are,  and  never 
even  suspected  !'  Dick,  you're  a  three-sheet- 
poster  fool  in  colored  ink.  And  to  think  that 
both  of  them  know  all  about  the  first  pro- 
posal !  Bof/i  of  them  !  Well,  thank  Heaven, 
Toronto  is  a  long  way  from  New  York." 


THE  END. 


